>>Aelin
The chamber was quiet but for the sound of our breathing.
Draegon's arm rested across my waist, heavy and warm, his hand splayed over my stomach as if he meant to anchor me there—beside him, with him. The sheets tangled around our bare legs, the scent of him still clinging to my skin. The fire in the hearth crackled softly, throwing shadows along the stone walls.
I stared up at the ceiling, one hand resting over my chest where my heart was still slowing. My body hummed with a soft ache, a kind of pleasure that still shimmered deep inside me.
This—this—had not been like before.
It hadn't been like my first time—awkward, fast, something I'd endured. This had been slow, grounding, deliberate. I had never known my body could feel so known, so seen. Draegon had touched me like he wanted to understand me.
