Waking up that morning was like slowly surfacing from a warm, deep dream, only to find the dream was real.
The first thing I felt was warmth. A solid, firm warmth wrapping my body from behind. The second was the weight of a heavy, muscular arm over my waist, the hand splayed over the curve of my belly in a gesture of possession so natural it made my heart give a soft leap of joy.
I opened my eyes slowly. The dawn light filtered through the curtains tinted the room a pale gold. The sound of the rain had ceased, leaving a damp, fresh silence in the air. And then, the rhythm. Slow, deep, and steady. Marco's breath against my neck. He was still asleep.
I didn't move. I allowed myself to exist in that perfect moment. I smelled him on my skin—wood, rain, soap, and something inherently masculi
