The pale, golden morning light spilled across the bed, illuminating Severine as she lay curled beneath the thin duvet.
The stark white of the oversized button-down shirt—which belonged to him—contrasted sharply against the porcelain paleness of her skin.
The fabric slouched entirely off her frame, sliding down to reveal the soft, rounded curve of her shoulder and the smooth expanse of her back.
And on it were the clear bite marks turning red.
My marks
Truthfully, there was no practical point in wearing that shirt.
Yet, Killian had deliberately and carefully dressed her in it, working the lower buttons, leaving the upper ones wide open. He had done all this while she was far too exhausted to even open her eyes.
Sitting on the edge of the mattress, Killian stared down at her, a profound, quiet smile reaching his eyes.
The trail of blooming red marks marring her delicate neck and decorating the skin hidden beneath the covers made his lips curl a fraction higher.
