ADRIEN'S POV
The first thing I notice is the weight of her on me—warm and it feel so perfectly right.
Sunlight is pouring in through the drapes that I never bothered to close, and filtering through her hair like it was made to be there. I wouldn't trade the view for a thousand dollar painting.
She moves, just a littl, and every nerve in my body lights up. I tighten my arm so she knows she isn't leaving unless she pull me off with a crowbar.
God, Walton, breathe.
Last night, the kitchen, the bed—hell, everywhere—I took her apart. But this…this quiet weight of her breathing on my chest is the thing that cracks something open inside me. Something I didn't know was there, something protective and fierce and terrifyingly vulnerable.
Its not the heat of desire, it's not the thrill of the chase, and it's definitely not the victory of possession.
