Chapter 33
EMMA
Iwake to golden afternoon light streaming through unfamiliar windows and the warm, solid weight of Jake's arm draped across my waist. For a moment, I'm disoriented—this isn't my bedroom at Circle H. The sheets are softer, the bed much bigger, and the scent surrounding me is absolutely addicting.
Jake's bed. At Blackthorn Ranch.
Without moving, I look around. His bedroom is sparse—dark wood furniture, navy sheets, modern and sparse. There’s nothing on the walls except a single framed photo. I squint trying to see it, but it’s too far away.
I shift slightly, and my body protests—a delicious soreness between my thighs, a pleasant ache in muscles I didn’t remember I had. My skin feels sensitized, hyper-aware of every place Jake touched me and marked me as his.
And he did mark me. I can feel the tender spot on my neck where he bit and the slight burn on my inner thighs from his stubble. I'm thoroughly taken, completely claimed, and I've never felt more satisfied in my life.
"You're awake."
Jake's voice is rough with sleep, and I turn my head to find him watching me with those sea-deep eyes. He props up on one elbow, his gaze tracking over my face like he's checking to make sure all is right in my world.