Meredith.
My body still trembled in Draven's arms, every breath uneven as I lay sprawled against him.
The storm of passion had finally ebbed, leaving behind a quiet warmth that spread through my chest.
His skin was hot against mine, his heartbeat strong and steady beneath my ear.
Draven's arm curled around me possessively, his fingers tracing lazy, soothing circles along my bare back.
The roughness of his touch contrasted with the gentleness of his hold, and it made my heart ache in the most beautiful way.
For a long while, we said nothing. The silence wasn't awkward—it was heavy with meaning, thick with the knowledge of what we had just shared.
My lips curved in a faint smile, still swollen from his kisses, and I whispered into the hollow of his throat, "You've exhausted me."
His chest rumbled with a low chuckle. "You're welcome."
