Sweet Agony

With the girl he adored curled up in his arms, Lachlan would have to be a saint, or made of stone, to keep his composure.

Lachlan felt the delicate warmth of her body in his arms. His Adam's apple bobbed as heat consumed him, his blood running hot. Yet she slept undisturbed, her body instinctively seeking his warmth, pressing closer with each drowsy shift.

Lachlan thought to himself, 'This is swee