LYLA
Zephyr looked intoxicated. His eyes half closed as they stared at my lips.
"We can't," he said softly, touching my face, but his eyes told a different story, as well as the hardness poking my thighs.
"You're still healing," he said. "I don't want to do anything that will make it worse."
He wasn't wrong. My ribs were still sore, and the occasional headache reminded me I wasn't fully back to myself. It could get too much for me.
But I was too turned on to just let the moment pass.
"We don't have to have s*x," I said, pressing a kiss to his neck. He tensed even further beneath me. "Not like you were going to anyway," I added under my breath. "You always stop."
"It's not what you think," he replied gently. "I do want to have s*x with you." A pause. "Just not right now."
"Your d**
