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.
