I lie in the darkness, Selene’s warm body draped across mine like she was made to fit there. Her head rests on my chest, her arms wrapped tightly around my waist, one leg thrown over mine in complete possession. In sleep, she clings to me.
The irony makes me grin despite my exhaustion.
For a woman who spent weeks claiming she didn’t want me, she sure as hell holds on tight when she’s unconscious. Her fingers are curled into my side, her breath soft and even against my skin. Her body is molded to mine as if she’s afraid I’ll evaporate if she loosens her grip even slightly.
I stroke her hair, the auburn strands silky between my fingers, and let my gaze drift over her bare back. Marks litter her skin—bite marks, scratches, bruises from my grip. Evidence of hours spent claiming her, remindi
