Warmth. That was the first thing Natalia registered as consciousness slowly returned.
Warmth and the steady rhythm of a heartbeat beneath her ear, strong and sure. The second
thing she noticed was the weight of a hand resting possessively on her backside, fingers
splayed across the curve of her ass with casual ownership that sent an unexpected thrill
through her body.
Natalia opened her eyes, blinking away the fog of sleep. Dim morning light filtered through
unfamiliar curtains, casting long shadows across the room. This wasn't her room. The walls
were the wrong color, the furniture arranged differently, and the scent—oh god, the scent.
Sweat and soap and something unmistakably masculine that made her stomach tighten and
her toes curl against the sheets.
Satori's room. Satori's bed. Satori's powerful body beneath hers.
The memories flooded back in a rush of sensation so vivid she felt her body respond
immediately, a liquid heat pooling between her thighs. His mouth between her legs, hot and
demanding. His fingers inside her, knowing exactly how to curve and press. The way he'd
made her beg, desperate and shameless. The way he'd called her a good girl and how those
two simple words had broken something fundamental inside her, shattering her pride into
glittering, beautiful fragments.
Natalia shifted slightly, and her inner thigh brushed against something hard and hot
beneath the thin fabric of his sweatpants. The contact sent a jolt of electricity straight to her
core, making her gasp involuntarily. Fresh wetness pooled between her legs, and she had to
bite her lip hard enough to taste copper to keep from moaning aloud.
She was still naked from the waist down, she realized with a mixture of embarrassment
and arousal. Her sleep shirt had ridden up to just below her breasts, leaving her exposed
against him. One of her legs was hooked over his, her core pressed against his thigh in an
intimacy that should have mortified her but instead only intensified the ache building
inside her.
Natalia looked up at Satori's sleeping face. His features were relaxed in sleep, softer
than when he was awake, almost vulnerable in their repose. His chest rose and fell with
deep, even breaths beneath her cheek. She remembered how he'd held her after she'd
fallen apart for the second time, how he'd stroked her hair and whispered praises
against her skin like prayers. .
Why didn't he fuck me?
He had her completely at his mercy. She would have let him do anything—everything—to
her body. Yet he'd stopped. He'd given her pleasure until she was incoherent with it, until
she was nothing but sensation and need, and then he'd just held her until she fell asleep in
his arms.
The thought was maddening. It made her feel both cherished and cheated, protected and
denied.
Natalia's gaze traveled down his body, taking in the powerful lines of his chest and arms,
the definition that hadn't been there months ago. When had Satori become this...
magnificent? She barely recognized him as the same person she'd despised for so long. Her
eyes caught on a dark, purplish mark on his neck, just below his jaw. A mark she'd made
with her mouth in the heat of passion, a primal claiming she didn't even remember doing.
Satori slept on, unaware of her scrutiny or the possessive turn of her thoughts. His
breathing remained deep and even, his face peaceful in the soft morning light.
Natalia wanted to bite him, to sink her teeth into the muscle of his shoulder and leave an
imprint he'd feel for days. But she didn't want to wake him. Not yet. This quiet moment felt
precious, a stolen interlude outside the complications of their daily lives, their history, their
future.
Instead, she settled for something gentler. Carefully, Natalia pressed her lips to his jaw. The
light stubble there rasped against her skin, sending a delicious shiver down her spine. She
trailed feather-light kisses down his neck, across his collarbone, to the hard plane of his
chest. Each kiss was a silent thank you. Each kiss was a wordless plea for more.
His skin tasted faintly of salt, and she could feel the heat of him radiating through her lips
like a furnace. A wave of affection crashed over her, so intense it made her breath catch in
her throat. She wanted this. She wanted him. Not just his body, but all of him. His smirks,
his arrogance, his unexpected tenderness.
How had this happened? When had her hatred transformed into this overwhelming need
that consumed her thoughts and dreams?
Natalia pushed herself up carefully, hovering over his face. In sleep, his features looked
almost innocent, the harsh angles softened by vulnerability. The red hair she'd once
thought garish now seemed vibrant, alive with an energy that called to something deep
within her. She reached out, brushing a strand from his forehead with trembling fingers.
She was going to do it. She was going to steal a kiss, a real kiss on the lips, while he slept.
Just one, to satisfy the craving that had been building since she'd opened her eyes in his
arms.
Natalia leaned down, her hair falling around them like a silken purple curtain. Her lips
hovered a breath away from his. The world narrowed to this single perfect moment,
balanced on the edge of something profound.
Click.
The sound of a key turning in the front door lock shattered the silence like a gunshot. A
cold, electronic voice drifted from the living room:
"Front door unlocked. Welcome home."
Natalia froze, her heart stopping mid-beat. Then came the voices.
"It's good to be back," her father's deep baritone rumbled through the apartment. "I hope
the kids haven't burned the place down."
Kimiko's laugh, light and musical. "I'm sure they've been fine. They're adults now, after all."
"Huh," Luka's voice said, much closer now. "It doesn't smell like a pigsty for once."
Pure, undiluted panic crashed over Natalia like an arctic wave. She was in Satori's bed. Half-
naked. On top of him. At what must be mid-morning on a Saturday.
And daddy was home