{EMY}
I didn't know how late it was—or if it was already morning—when something warm and damp brushed against my skin.
It pulled me from sleep in the gentlest way, like a dream refusing to end.
My lashes fluttered, my vision hazy, and the first thing I became aware of was the scent I knew better than my own heartbeat.
Ren.
That faint trace of cedar and something darker, something uniquely him, filled my lungs before my eyes could even focus.
Then I felt his mouth—soft, slow, almost trembling—pressing kisses along my shoulder, my collarbone, the hollow beneath my jaw as though relearning every inch of me.
He was kissing me so tenderly it hurt.
Tenderly, but with a desperation threaded beneath, a hunger trying not to shake.
Despite his effort to be gentle, I could feel his exhaustion in the way his breaths hitched, in the subtle weight of his body leaning into mine as though he didn't have the strength to hold himself up any longer.
