Adrien nudged the bedroom door open with his shoulder. The room was cool and dimly lit, curtains drawn partially against the morning sun.
He carried me through the familiar space as if it were perfectly normal to be swept off my feet and into my own bedroom.
"Adrien..." I started to protest, cheeks flushing hot, but he just chuckled, low and knowing.
He reached the side of the bed, kneeling slightly to lower me carefully onto the mattress, making sure my injured ankle didn't take any weight.
"Don't worry, princess. I'm not going to take advantage." His thumbs rubbed slow circles over my knees. "Yet."
He leaned down, his lips meeting mine in a kiss that was immediately consuming. It wasn't the quick, playful kisses from the kitchen. This was a kiss that spoke of banked fires, of patience wearing thin.
