Who was in her bed?

Her eyes flew open as fear and anger mixed inside her. With a warning hiss, she started to turn over only to have that lean, ripped body tighten around hers, pinning her to the mattress.

“Sh, misa, it’s me,” Darling breathed in her ear, using the Caronese word that meant “my most precious one.” Her throat tightened. The surgeries had done nothing to change his damaged throat at all. In a way, she missed the refined, melodic cadence of the voice she’d fallen in love with. But she was getting used to his gruffer tone. The only drawback was that it often caused him to sound angry even when he wasn’t.

She covered his hand with hers. “I’m going to beat you if you don’t stop sneaking in on me like that.” His warm, masculine scent should have told her instantly who it was, but still…

“I’m sorry.” He nuzzled his face against her hair. “I didn’t want to wake you at all.” She might believe him if he wasn’t teasing her nipple with his thumb through the black shirt she wore, and if a certain extremely hard part of his body wasn’t resting against her hip.

She reached for the lamp, but he stopped her.

“I want to hold you like I used to. Before there was any kind of hurt between us. When it was just you and me in the dark. No past. No pain. Just two people who were madly in love with each other.”

“I’m still madly in love with you.”

He didn’t respond to her words. Instead, he nibbled her earlobe while he unbuttoned her shirt and spread it open so that he could cup her breast in his warm palm. “So why are you sleeping in my bed and not yours?”

Closing her eyes, she savored the way he felt holding her. “The same reason I’m wearing your shirt. I missed you too much to sleep in my room. In here, I can feel your presence and pretend that you’re with me and not far away.” She buried her face against his pillows. “I can smell you, too.”

And she’d wrapped herself up in his shirt to feel as close to him as she could without his being home. While it wasn’t the same as being held by him, it’d been a close substitution, and one that had allowed her to finally go to sleep. Honestly, it scared her just how much he meant to her. How much it hurt when he wasn’t here.

For hours after her return, she’d wandered around the palace like a grieving spirit. Aching. Lonely. Terrified of what would happen to her if he didn’t return. She couldn’t imagine a life without him in it. She couldn’t. The mere thought of losing him was enough to make her hysterical.

How could any man wreak such havoc with her sanity?

He trailed his hand over her hip and stomach until he found the most private part of her body. Zarya sucked her breath in sharply while his fingers delved deep inside her. He nuzzled his face against her shoulder, scraping her skin with his whiskers as he removed his shirt from her body. She’d grown so used to his beard that it was strange to feel his skin on hers again.