Guinevere placed both palms flat onto the mattress on either side of Maddox, and tried to push herself up.
Her torso made it approximately two inches off his body. His arms clamped down. Steel bands. Zero give. The laws of physics were firmly on his side.
"Are you going to let me move?"
"Haven't decided yet."
"Maddox."
"The answer is evolving. Current trajectory says no."
She huffed against him. His dragon purred so loudly he was fairly certain she could hear it through his ribs.
"What do we usually do in the mornings?" His question was casual. Conversational. Not at all the energy of a man whose dragon was feeding him the question like a lawyer coaching a witness.
"Interesting. Your heart rate just went from seventy to ninety-four," he commented, and the grin was audible.
The noise she made was somewhere between a groan and a laugh and it was his new favorite sound on the planet.
He moved.
