The Wrong Woman

Mila firmly held Nathan's wrist, her dazed eyes meeting his intense gaze. Panting softly, she said, "Nate, it's four in the morning. You haven't been getting enough rest lately. You can't keep this up."

Nathan withdrew his hand and gently caressed her cheek with a look of deep affection, his voice tinged with a hint of hurt. "Are you not feeling well, or are you trying to distance yourself from me?"

Quick to reassure, Mila explained, "It's been two months, and I feel perfectly fine. I'm just worried about you."

Without a second thought, Nathan draped himself with the blanket, swiftly discarding the towel underneath. In an instant, he pressed his body against her abdomen, his desire palpable. Sleep was far from his mind now.

Mila stiffened, her body tensing as her cheeks flushed. She turned her face away shyly and bit her lip.

Leaning in, Nathan whispered in her ear, "If it's your health you're concerned about, I can wait. But if you're worried about me being tired, I can't."

Swallowing nervously, Mila felt the pressure on her abdomen, her eyes closing in embarrassment.

Nathan kissed her neck, his husky voice soothing. "I'll be gentle

quick? Though they'd been intimate only once, Mila's memory told

they'd finish,

kissed her lips,

depths of the night. True intimacy from skin contact and deep physical connection were the finest remedies for

Nathan was his promise to be gentle and

for him. And considering she had recently given birth,

exhaustion but from the passionate intensity of the moment. When she next woke,

aftermath was

the bed, she headed to the bathroom for

from the bath, Mila found several dishes

room, she walked over and lifted the lids, revealing her favorite dishes. Without