Wilder had dreamt about what it would be like to wake up next to Thea, to fuck her all night and then share a bed with her properly, to have her in his arms upon waking. He had pictured the joy and peace that would come with it. And it was everything he’d imagined it to be. More. So he allowed himself to savour the moment and the sleepy quiet of the morning to breathe her in, to memorise how she felt pressed against him and how she fit him so perfectly. He knew he couldn’t have it forever, so he had to make it count.
