Killian was entirely, utterly besotted with Severine.
Not that the feelings weren't mutual. She loved him with an intensity that often terrified her own logic—except for the fact that she had never been very vocal about it.
Until recently.
But when she had finally and truly expressed her feelings without any reservations, the resulting aftermath had turned out to be rather troubling for her physical state.
The winter sun was already hanging high in the sky, filtering soft, golden beams through the sheer curtains of the suite, and yet she was still fast asleep.
The exhaustion from the emotional whiplash of her dreams, combined with the unyielding, possessive affection Killian had showered upon her through the night, had kept her pressed deep within the mattress.
That was, of course, after they had messed around enough in the bathroom.
She had actually thought they were going to rest after that initial shower.
But Killian clearly had different, far more demanding plans.
