And unfortunately when that happened, in sleep, I curled deeper into the big, hard, stranger at my side, my arm snaking around him and holding tight, my thigh curving around his, my knee and calf falling between his legs, my h*ps cradled by the side of his, my cheek pillowed on his massive, hard chest.
This was something I did normally in my sleep with covers and pillows.
Something I did that night with something a lot warmer, a lot more comfortable and a lot more dangerous.
And when I slept curled tight around my dark stranger husband, I slept deep.
Chapter Six
Phew
I slept in but Penelope was still with me when I woke.
And Penelope was my only bedmate.
Phew.
I lay in the warm cocoon of covers that was pulled up to my neck and wondered if my dark stranger husband pulled them up after he left me in bed which would be a surprising indication he could be thoughtful.
Then I figured he did because I likely didn’t.
Then I didn’t know what to do with that so I set it aside and listened to the house.
Nothing.
I couldn’t even feel his presence.
Phew. Okay. Good.
Space to get my head straight.
Penelope sensed I was awake and sauntered up the curved line of my body then jumped down to curl in the warm shell of my belly, lap and thighs and there she started purring. I noted the windows were covered by the heavy curtains and the curtain was still drawn at the railing but sunlight was coming through there (not at the windows, they didn’t mess around in Lunwyn with curtains, total blackout situation, nothing got through, they even had draft protectors to set at the base of the doors). This had to mean it was late morning for Lunwyn’s days were very short, by my estimation, starting around nine or ten and ending around two or three. Then it was moonlight all the way.
I tipped my head and saw the fire was blazing, heating the small nest of space.
Definitely my dark stranger husband did that for me unless Lunwyn had heretofore unknown fire fairies.
Another surprising act of thoughtfulness.
Hmm.
I pulled just an arm out of the covers to scratch Penelope behind the ears as I considered my dilemma.
First, I was married and my husband was home.
Second, I was not a lesbian like he thought I was.
Third, my husband was a renowned Raider, known to be virile and “skilled in that area” but also it was clear he was very virile unless you were blind, deaf and lost all your senses of perception.
Fourth, I knew there was a strong possibility the rumors of his “skill” were true with the one kiss he’d given me, the light touch he’d woken me with last night and the gentle way he touched my jaw and neck.
Fifth, he liked my hair.
Sixth, he wanted to sleep with me cuddled to his side.
Seventh, he left me covered and cocooned, stoking up the fire to keep me warm.
Hmm.