Frederick's POV
She lay fast asleep, her breath soft and even, her body curled against me as if I were the only safe place she had in the world.
I lay there, staring at her, the weight of what I had done pressing heavily on my chest.
To be frank, I had gone too far—more than I should have. It was her first time, and though I told myself I would control it… I hadn't. The moment I tasted her, felt her body shudder beneath me, all reason snapped. My control shattered.
I should feel guilt. Maybe even shame. Instead, I felt something worse—need. She was addictive: the way she clenched around me, the way her nails dug into my skin, the way she whispered my name as if I were the only man alive. It drove me mad.
If she hadn't been so weak and trembling, I would have taken her again and again. Gods, I still wanted to.
My hand slid lazily down her back, tracing the curve of her spine, careful not to wake her. She shifted slightly in her sleep, a soft whimper escaping her lips.
