Moonlight spilled into Gerald's room like liquid silver, painting shadows across the luxurious furnishings.
The soft, decadent sheets lay twisted and discarded at the edge of the bed. Artworks and artifacts from distant lands adorned the chamber, but the room felt alive not with refinement, but with muted sounds—breaths, whispers, the rhythmic shuffle of skin against skin.
A woman's moans filled the air, soft gasps and throaty sighs escaping her parted lips as Gerald held her close.
His hand gripped her wrist, trailing down her arm as he drew it behind her back, pressing her forward, bent over the bed, her body exposed to the moonlight's caress. Their movements, uncensored and raw, blended with the rustle of sheets and the creak of wood, the chamber steeped in the heat and sweat of their union.
