Nathan dragged her back into the heat of the moment the way a man hooks fingers into silk and pulls, effortless, inevitable, making Freja feel every second of what she had done and what she had revealed beneath that stiff, armored personality she tried so desperately to live inside.
And the way she trembled now, staring at him with those wide, uncertain eyes, every little quiver of her thighs, every ragged breath she let escape, told him exactly what she was really made of.
He didn't give her time to think, he didn't let her crawl back behind that shield she always hid behind. His hand closed around her wrist with a firm, unhurried certainty, tugging her a step closer, then guiding her down until the backs of her thighs met the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped beneath her weight, and she sank onto it instinctively, knees loosening, her body responding faster than her thoughts could keep up.
