Freya's POV
The moment arrived with both surprise and inevitability woven together.
I understand that women should maintain composure, shouldn't take the lead so boldly. Yet fear grips me that unexpected complications might arise once we return home, stealing away any chance of a future between us.
So in this surge of emotion and reckless abandon, I choose to throw caution aside and give in to my desires.
At the pivotal instant, Mack Ben hesitated with visible struggle, his striking features colored crimson from intense self-control, turbulent feelings swirling in his dark eyes.
His brow creased as he swallowed hard, the movement of his throat hypnotic, voice emerging rough and low. "Freya... your wrist, the injury—"
"It doesn't matter."
After all, my hands aren't essential for this.
I pressed my lips to his again, yet he halted me once more. "Freya, are you certain? Did tonight's events disturb you, making you somewhat..."
