Riven groaned softly and buried his face in the pillow. Every inch of him felt wrung out—sore in that toe-curling, lingering way that made his cheeks warm just thinking about it.
Ronan… That bastard.
He shifted a little, trying to peel himself off the mattress without waking the large man still sprawled against him. But the second he moved, a strong arm wrapped firmly around his waist, pulling him back into the heat of Ronan's chest.
"Where do you think you're going?" Ronan's voice was still thick and low with sleep, vibrating right against Riven's neck.
Riven scowled into the pillow, too tired to muster more than half-hearted irritation.
"Away from you," Riven growled. He really meant it when he said all night. He didn't get to fall asleep until it was four in the morning.
"I know what you did. You exhausted me on purpose."
Ronan's lips curved in a smile against his skin. "Mm. Is that so?"
