[Warning: This chapter contains Explicit Mature Content]
Kaija pinched the bridge of her nose. Did this world-class superstar really just knock out on her couch so easily, so guiltlessly like that?
She walked over and poked his cheeks. No reaction. She pinched his nose shut. Still no reaction. His mouth just parted slightly and kept gasping for air instead. Now her frustration shot through the roof. She sighed, deciding to just let him be and go to sleep.
As she straightened up and turned away, his hand suddenly shot up, seized her wrist, and yanked her down. The next second, she found herself on the couch, sandwiched in between his arms and legs like a human body pillow.
"What the actual fuck, Karl Hanski?!" she squealed, wiggling frantically to get free, but his limbs weren't just long, they were a lot heavier than how slender they seemed.
