26
Chloe
I wake up bleary-eyed, my head pounding and my body aching all over. Suppressing a groan, I attempt to roll over onto my side, only to find that I’m pinned in place by a heavy arm slung over my torso.
Adrenaline floods my veins, clearing away the fog of sleep, and I realize where I am.
In bed with Nikolai.
My breath catches, and I carefully turn my head to look at him. I’ve only seen him asleep once before, the one other time we spent the night together, and I’m again struck by how beautiful and dangerously animalistic he looks in repose, with jet-black lashes fanning over his sharp cheekbones and dark stubble shadowing the hard lines of his jaw. Sleep doesn’t soften his starkly molded features; instead, it lends them a savage kind of sensuality, a darkly primitive appeal.
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