Tonight, she had given him something far more valuable than submission—trust.
He tightened his arm around her as her breathing deepened. Her eyelids fluttered once, twice…
And then she was asleep.
Safe.
In his arms.
And that pleased him more than he would ever admit.
CHAPTER 36
She woke slowly, drifting up from sleep like surfacing through velvet water, feeling warm and thick and strange. Her body felt heavy: limbs loose, muscles languid, the kind of weight she only remembered from the rare nights she'd slept deeply and safely—beforeallof this.
The first thing she registered was the warmth.
She was still swaddled in the thick fur he’d draped over her. It cocooned her against the cold, soft as a cloud and impossibly plush and smelling ofhim. Beneath her, the pilot’s seat cradled her frame, and despite its alien design, it was comfortable and supportive.
She was alone.
Her eyes fluttered open.
The cockpit was bathed in low amber light, the kind that didn’t come from outside, but from the ship’s internal systems. Outside, the view was black, mountains still hidden beneath a blanket of snow and mist, with the occasional gust of wind ghosting across the window like a shiver.
He wasn’t there.
The enormous armored presence she’d grown accustomed to—silent, watchful, coiled in constant power—was gone.
But she could stillfeelhim.
On her skin.
In her bones.
And somewhere deeper.
A faint tingle danced down the insides of her thighs as memory came rushing back: fingers tracing fire across her skin, the soundless dominance of his touch, the way he’d undone her with so little effort. Like he’d known her body better than she did.
Her cheeks flushed instantly.
God.
She hugged the fur tighter around her, burrowing deeper.
Had it been a dream?
For a wild, fleeting moment, she almost believed it.
But no.
Her body remembered.
Too clearly.
There was no mistaking the heavy warmth between her legs, the dull ache in her thighs, the hum still echoing somewhere low in her belly.
That actually happened.