The next morning, Layla's heavy eyelids fluttered open, the soft light of dawn bathing the room in a warm glow. The first thing her eyes focused on was Lucius's face, serene in the depths of sleep. They lay tangled together beneath the sheets, legs intertwined in a gentle embrace.
A smile tugged at her lips as the memories of the night before rushed back to her—intense and electrifying. She had lost count of how many times she had climaxed because of the intense pleasure, and the mere thought sent a ripple of shivers down her spine.
Careful not to wake him, Layla slid out of the bed and reached for a thin robe, draping it over her shoulders before padding to the washroom.
The cool tiles met her bare feet as she stood before the mirror, her reflection revealing a flushed face framed by tousled hair. Her eyes widened as they trailed down her body, taking in the red marks scattered across her skin like wildflowers in bloom.