The bristle of his beard against her bare shoulder.
She can’t see anything, the room’s too dark, but she can sense where he is; her body pressed against his where they found comfort while they slept.
She’s on her back, but her legs are tangled with his, and he’s resting his forehead against the side of her neck. His arm wrapped around her waist, holding her close.
The sweet, welcome prickle of his facial hair had roused her from dreams of meadows of wildflowers and sugared plums and a rotting army of corpses. Her nights had been a horrifying combination of beautiful memories she longed to remember and the gruesome recollections of the horrors she could only hope to forget.
Now she was awake she could feel his hair tickling her nose, the scent of him mixed with the smell of horses and sweat surrounded her. She tilted her head at an awkward angle and kissed his hair softly, a small gesture of gratitude as he’d unknowingly rescued her from her nightmares.
He was good at that.
Oh she wished he could visit her dreams as much as he occupied her thoughts, but not even Jaime would be safe from the demon beasts that haunted her.
Better he stay here, safe where she can feel him.
She moved slightly to wake him just enough to change position, rolled to her side, and let him surround her with arms and warmth and love.
And if his erection pressed against her backside? That just made it better.