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Warmth cocoons me—his body, his arms, and the heavy weight of the furs he pulled over us in the night. For a moment, I simply breathe, savoring the way his hand rests splayed across my belly—possessive, even in sleep.

He’s still dozing, face relaxed, the hard angles of his jaw softened by slumber. Without the intensity of his gaze or the command of his voice, he looks younger. Vulnerable, even.

Mine. A flush rises in me.And I am his.

The memories of the night flood in, leaving me aching in the sweetest ways. The tenderness he showed after. The way he cared for me, touched me without any demand, those things settle even deeper into my bones than the physical pleasure.

I shift, trying not to wake him, but the slightest movement has his arms tightening around me. A low rumble vibrates in his chest.

“Trying to escape already, little queen?”

His voice is rough with sleep, deeper than usual, and it sends a pleasant shiver along my spine. I smile against his skin.

“I wasn’t escaping. I was adjusting.”

He nuzzles into my hair, inhaling deeply.

“You adjust into me—not away.”

Heat blooms low in my belly at the possessive note in his voice. He presses a kiss to the top of my head, then another behind my ear—lazy, lingering, full of heat.

“Are you sore?” he asks, a real question beneath the rumble of his voice.

My cheeks warm, but I shake my head.

“A little. But I don’t mind.” I pause, gathering courage. “I... liked it.”

He growls softly, but it’s a pleased sound. His hand moves slowly, tracing the curve of my hip, the dip of my waist, the small of my back.

“You pleased me more than you can know,” he murmurs. “And you will again.”

His words make my heart hammer, but there’s no fear. Only a thrilling anticipation.

He shifts onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow so he is looking down at me. His hair falls across his forehead in a loose tumble, and I reach up without thinking, brushing it back.

He catches my hand mid-motion and brings it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the center of my palm.

“I could spend the rest of my days like this,” he says, voice soft. “Waking to you. Touching you. Watching you wake in my arms.”

I swallow hard, emotion thick in my throat.

“You say that now,” I tease, trying to lighten the moment. “But what happens when you realize how stubborn I am?”

He chuckles, the sound deep and delicious.

“I already know how stubborn you are. And it only makes me want you more.”

I laugh, the sound surprising me with its ease. It feels sogoodto laugh, in this small, sacred space we’ve made for ourselves.

He leans down, brushing his nose along my jaw, and murmurs, “There is strength in you, little queen. Fire. It drew me first… and it will keep me at your side, always.”

His words are simple, but they strike me harder than any declaration of love.

I tilt my chin and kiss him. This time not gentle but full of the slow, rising need that never really left us.

He groans low against my mouth and rolls me beneath him, careful but firm, pinning me to the leathers. His weight, his strength, cages me in, but I don’t feel trapped.

I feelsafe.