Page 172 of Kentrell

My forehead resting against his. His hand moving slowly up and down my spine. The flicker of the fireplace casting soft shadows across the room as the TV murmured on in the background, long forgotten.

His chest was warm and steady beneath my cheek. My body curled over his like we were made to fit like this.

Safe.

Fed.

Loved… even if he hadn’t said the words.

Yet.

I could’ve fallen asleep like that. Should’ve.

But I didn’t.

Because now that Iknewhe was really mine?

I wanted to feel it again.

I tilted my face up and kissed the base of his throat, slow and purposeful. My fingers slid down over his abs, tracing the lines I already knew by heart.

He didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

Just let me take control.

I shifted, lifting myself up onto my knees, straddling him beneath the covers. His hands gripped my hips on instinct, but he didn’t stop me.

He just watched me.

Let me kiss his chest. His neck. His lips.

Let me show him howgratefulI was. How addicted.

Howhappy.

“You tryna get put back to sleep like this?” he murmured against my mouth, voice already thick with want.

“I’m tryna make sure I go to bed with you still inside me,” I whispered back, grinding slow over the hardness that had returned with a vengeance.

He hissed.

“That so?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Say less.”

FIFTEEN

KENTRELL

She wasn’t helping.

At all.

We were supposed to be packing up. Checkout was in less than an hour, the driver was already on standby, and the snow hadn’t let up since yesterday morning.

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