I suddenly find myself flipped, my back hitting the soft sheets as Thorne's large hands grip my waist, guiding me until I'm straddling him. I blink down at him, ready to glare, but the intensity in his eyes stops me short.
He's staring at me like I hung the moon, as if I'm the most divine thing to ever exist, and for a moment, I just soak in the way he looks at me. His blue eyes are deep and heated, swirling with hunger, awe, and something so devastatingly soft that it makes my chest ache.
Slowly, I sit up, shifting so that my hands rest on his firm stomach, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath my palms. I spread my legs wider, settling on either side of him, my thighs framing his hips. His hands trail from my waist down to my thighs, gripping them like he's grounding himself in reality—as if he still can't believe I'm real.