C35 The Suffocation Limit

The weight of Logan’s body was a cage designed to crush the breath right out of my lungs.

He wasn’t sleeping like a normal man. Even heavily medicated, with the bitter, synthetic scent of cortisone and sour sweat rolling off his skin in waves, his hold on me was a vice. His uninjured right arm was wrapped around my waist, pinning my hips flush against his side