The morning sun pierced through the gaps in the heavy velvet curtains of the Silver Pine Inn, casting thin, dusty beams of light across the chaotic landscape of the bed. The room smelled of musk, sweat, and the heavy, salty tang of a long night of passion.
Yun Lan stirred, her eyes fluttering open. Her body felt heavy, anchored to the mattress by a profound, bone-deep exhaustion. But it wasn't just tiredness; it was a soreness that radiated from her inner thighs, her hips, and deep within her womb.
Memories of the previous night—and the early morning in the bathroom—flooded her mind. The steam. The water. The way Alaric had bent her over the marble tub. The way he had made her look at herself in the mirror as he claimed her over and over again.
She flushed, pulling the silk sheet up to her chin.
