*Ainslee*

I was wrong. The call of the bearskin rug was just too much for him.

It is late morning, and Rafe was finally asleep, having ravaged me, repeatedly, on the bearskin rug. I enjoy the warmth of the fire as I drowsily watch the flames.

Clever fingers tiptoe up my arm. Goosebumps rise on my skin.

“You’re out of your mind…” I whisper, turning my face into Rafe’s neck and kissing it.

“You drive me insane,” Rafe murmurs. His eyes aren’t even open, and he’s randy for me again. I can feel it over our connection.

“Ra-afe…” I whine. “Later, I promise. I promise I’ll let you do whatever...