It’s still dark when I woke up. Not morning, not quite. That fragile hour where the city hasn’t decided to breathe again yet. For a moment, I don’t remember where I am. Then I felt him. Warm. Solid. Alive beneath me.
My cheek was pressed against Rowan’s bare chest, his heartbeat slow and steady under my ear. One of his arms was wrapped around my waist, heavy and possessive even in sleep, his fingers rested against the curve of my hip as if they settled there instinctively.
I didn't move. Last night lingers in my bones. Not in sharp details, not in anything I could describe without blushing , but in sensation. Everything was so hazy and so different and so good. Rowan had been intense. Controlled. Like he approached everything in his life. He was a man on a mission and he did not fail.
