The heat in the room lingered even after the last moan faded.
Bodies lay scattered across the black silk bed like the wreckage of a storm—spent, panting, their skin slick under the flicker of braziers. The smell of sweat, sex, and something darker still clung to the air.
Daniel stretched lazily, rolling his shoulders before sliding off the bed. The faint smirk on his lips never wavered as he pulled a silk robe over his bare, sweat-sheened frame. He tied it loosely, not bothering to hide the jagged red marks across his chest and neck, souvenirs from eager hands and teeth.
His bare feet padded softly across the carpet as he walked toward her.
Remu stayed seated in the velvet chair, arms crossed, her expression sharp enough to cut. Her bare skin still held the faint chill of the stone floor, and she didn't flinch when Daniel stopped a step in front of her.
