Priscilla’s POV
“Good morning,” Wyatt murmured as I opened my eyes, all wrapped up in his arms. His lips pressed against the side of my face, flushing my face with warmth.
My entire being hummed with contentment, and I felt absolutely rested. “What time is it?”
“A little after eight,” he answered quietly.
“I never sleep this late.”
He brushed some tangled hair back from my forehead. “How do you feel?”
I rolled away from him, stretching my arms and legs like a cat waking up from a nap. Honestly, I felt wonderful. My thighs were deliciously sore, and this blissful haze had settled over me. I rested on my stomach, eyes taking in Wyatt’s relaxed body. “I feel great, papi.”
“Don’t call me that outside of this room,” he replied, throwing an arm over his face.
“Or what?”
His lips twitched into a small smile before he met my gaze again. “Or I’ll be sure to call you sweetheart every single chance I get.”