Miller
The room smelled like sex, sweat, and Leo's dark pheromones. The rich smoky mix of bitter black ink and charred sandalwood lingered in the air and I loved it.
I loved how it clung to my skin, how it made my chest feel full and calm at the same time.
Leo was sprawled half on top of me, his head resting on my chest, one leg thrown over mine. His breathing had finally evened out into slow, deep pulls.
I ran my fingers slowly up and down his back, tracing the line of his spine, feeling the faint ridges where my nails had left marks earlier.
He stirred a little, pressing his face closer to my neck.
"Miller…" he mumbled, sounding exhausted.
"Yeah?"
"We should talk tomorrow," he said quietly, dragging the words as if he was running out of breath. "I truly want us to talk about what happened to us and resolve it. All of it."
I nodded, even though he couldn't see it. My hand kept moving in gentle strokes along his back.
