Phoebe's POV
I frowned, pressing my lips together as I attempted to shift my legs. Nothing. They were completely numb. Two hours I'd been trapped in this exact position.
The position itself wasn't the problem—it was the heavy king using my lap as his personal pillow that had me pinned down.
Perry slept deeply, his breathing steady and even.
How could anyone sleep so long in such an awkward position? He'd wake up with a killer backache, though I doubted it. Shifters were built different.
And here I was, suffering because of him. Again.
I nudged his shoulder, trying to rouse him. Nothing. Then I grabbed a few strands of his hair and tugged.
Perry barely stirred.
His arms had wound around my lower body like iron shackles.
I seized a handful of his hair and yanked harder.
But as crazy as it sounded, I couldn't bring myself to wake him that harshly.
