[Meredith].
Warmth. That was the first thing I felt this morning.
It wasn't the sunlight slipping through the curtains, or the cool Stormveil air… but Draven.
His arm was wrapped firmly around my waist, his chest pressed against my back, his breath soft and heated against my neck.
I lay still for a moment, letting myself savour the afterglow, the way my limbs felt loose and satisfied, the way my body still remembered every place his hands had been.
Then, Draven shifted slightly behind me, tightening his hold as if sensing I was awake.
"Awake?" he murmured, voice deep, lazy, still roughened by sleep.
"Barely," I answered.
His lips, slowly but purposely teasing, brushed the back of my shoulder. "Good morning," he murmured.
I exhaled, half-laugh, half-flustered. "You sound too happy for someone who kept me up half the night."
"That was mutual," he countered, bringing his hand to my hip.
