11. Rosey
Chapter 11
Rosey
“ W ake, Rosey,” Ostor half-bellowed from somewhere close by. The balcony door hissed as he slid it open, and warm air rushed across my exposed skin. “The sun is rising and it’s glorious outside. The day is beginning, and we need to grab onto it and make it ours.”
“Not a morning person,” I mumbled, dragging the covers up over my head, burrowing down into the warmth left behind by his body. I’d slept in his arms all night, and it had been amazing. Almost amazing enough to crack open my eyelids and watch him move around the room.
He really was pretty.
With a roar, he leaped onto the bed, wrapping himself around me without, somehow, squishing me against the mattress.
In addition to being pretty, he was also agile.
“Wake up, tiny one,” he growled in my ear.
“Sleepy,” I groaned, snuggling deeper.
He bounced on the bed like a pup humping a fuzzy blanket, and that thought made laughter bubble up inside me. I peeled back the covers and scrunched my face as I looked up at him.
He was close, much too close, actually. All I’d need to do was lift my upper body a smidge, and I could plant my mouth on his.
Pretty tusks too. They shone in the early morning light as if he’d recently brushed them.
“If you don’t get out of bed, I’ll . . .” His gaze fell on my mouth.
As if he’d flicked a switch, my body came to life, humming with need I suspected only this male could satisfy.
“If you keep looking at me like that, I might do something about it,” he said gravelly.
“You’re the one who jumped on top of me. Who humped me.”
“When I hump you, you will know it, tiny one,” he said in a sly voice.
“Prove it.”