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.

his husky voice soothing.

been intimate only once, Mila's memory

they started, the sooner they'd finish, and he could finally

a tender smile, Nathan kissed her lips, his fingers skillfully unbuttoning

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

Mila had ever heard from Nathan was his

him. And

from the passionate intensity of the moment. When she

her stomach growling hungrily, her thighs feeling weak and sore. The aftermath was truly

to the bathroom for a hot bath,

Mila found several dishes of

the lids, revealing her favorite dishes. Without hesitation, Mila sat down and began