I woke up with the sensation of something warm… and soft… pressed against my back.

I didn’t open my eyes right away. My mind was still trying to place itself: a bed that wasn’t mine, a sweet, familiar scent, and the unmistakable weight of an arm wrapped around my waist.

No.
No, it can’t be.

I turned my head slightly almost like a protagonist in the middle of a horror movie. The blond hair brushing against my cheek confirmed what I feared.

Navia. Hugging me. From behind.

My entire body tensed.

I tried to move subtly, to slip out of her hold, but the moment I made even the slightest effort, her arm tightened around me. Her chest against my back. Her breath… at my neck.

“Mmm… are you awake already… mon cœur?”

She whispered, her voice husky with sleep, like silk dragging across my skin.

I didn’t answer. Maybe if I stayed silent… she’d let go.

But no. Of course not.

“You’re softer than you look,”
she continued, in that lazy tone that sounded dangerously intimate.
“Even in your sleep you let yourself be held… so sweet.”

“Navia,”
I tried to keep my voice steady, though it trembled at the end.
“Let me go.”

“I don’t want to.”

And without warning, she leaned closer to my ear, her lips brushing the edge of it shamelessly.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited to have you like this?”
she whispered, her voice low, almost reverent.
“So close… without you being able to escape.”

A light kiss, soft as a feather, touched my ear.

My cheeks burned.

“Na—!”

Another kiss, lower this time. Then another. And another.

A slow, provocative trail of kisses down my neck, to my shoulder exposed by the fallen sheet. Each one sparked something I struggled to keep from turning into fire.

“Navia… stop,”
I said, weaker than I wanted. Why wasn’t my body cooperating?

She smiled against my skin.

“‘Stop’? But I haven’t even started,”
she murmured, her fingers now lightly playing with the fabric of my nightgown.
“We’re just warming up…”

I turned sharply, enough for our eyes to meet. Her blue eyes shone with boldness—but also with something deeper. Something that made me hesitate. One second. One breath.

“This is a mission,”
I reminded her, my voice lower than usual.

“And we’re infiltrating as a couple,”
she replied, that dangerous smile returning.
“Wouldn’t it be suspicious if we slept like two statues?”

“There are limits.”

“Yours… or mine?”

I didn’t know how to answer.

The silence grew heavy. She didn’t kiss me again, but she didn’t pull away either. She just watched me, expectant. My face was still burning.

“I’m going to… take a shower,”
I muttered at last, pushing the blanket aside and hurrying out of the bed, as if the cold floor could extinguish the fire under my skin.

Behind me, I heard her low, satisfied laugh.

“I’ll be waiting, mon amour…”

I closed the bathroom door and leaned against it, exhaling sharply.

This mission was going to kill me.
Or worse—it was going to make me want to stay.