Nayla's voice was still hoarse, lips swollen and glistening, when Aiden finally caught his breath.
He reached, fingers gentle now, and cupped her jaw. His thumb brushed over her lower lip, smearing the last traces of him across her skin.
She leaned into the touch, eyes half-lidded, utterly content.
But Aiden's gaze darkened with fresh hunger.
He sat up slowly, muscles shifting under sweat-slick skin, and pulled her up with him until they were kneeling chest-to-chest on the massive bed.
"Come here," he murmured, voice low and rough.
He kissed her then—slow, deep, claiming.
He tasted himself on her tongue, salty and thick, and groaned softly into her mouth.
One hand slid to the back of her neck, holding her close while the other drifted down her spine, tracing the elegant curve until he reached the small of her back and pressed her tighter against him.
When they parted, both were breathing hard.
