[Meredith].
My heartbeat finally slowed.
The world had gone quiet, except for the soft rhythm of Draven's breathing against my neck and the faint thrum of my own pulse still racing from everything we had just done.
His arms remained wrapped around me, heavy and warm, anchoring me against his chest as though he refused to let even air come between us.
I didn't mind. I didn't think I ever would.
His breath brushed over my shoulder, still uneven, still hot. When he finally spoke, his voice was low—a deep rumble that vibrated through me.
"You're trembling," he murmured.
I didn't realize it until he said it.
"I'm fine," I whispered, though my voice came out softer than I expected, almost shy.
His hand slid up my back, slow and deliberate, fingers tracing my spine as though memorizing every inch.
"Are you sure?" he pressed gently.
I nodded against him.
