Eli
I’m wrecked.
The good kind. The kind that leaves my limbs heavy, my pulse pounding in my throat, and my skin humming like it remembers every place he touched.
Ronan hasn’t moved far. Just enough to lie on his side next to me, one arm slung over my middle like he thinks I might crawl away if he doesn’t keep hold of me.
His hand is splayed across my stomach, thumb brushing idly over my skin. I’m still warm from the inside out, and the bed smells like him and s*x and sweat. It’s intoxicating.
I should get up. Shower. Do something to break the spell. Instead, I lie here, catching my breath, staring at the ceiling and feeling the slow drag of his thumb.
The bond is quiet, content. Almost smug.
“Still breathing?” he asks after a long minute, his voice rougher now, like gravel under ve
