The room was quiet again, except for the faint rustle of clothes and the uneven sound of breathing that hadn't quite settled.
Craig fastened the last button of his shirt, fingers unsteady despite his effort to look composed. His heartbeat hadn't quite evened out, every breath reminding him how close they'd just been.
He was a man split open: half of him still buried inside her, the other half already calculating the choices waiting for him on the other side of the door.
Merlina stood by the edge of the bed, slipping her hair back into place, her reflection in the mirror pale and glowing under the half-light.
Her hands shook as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, a small, nervous motion that betrayed the wild pulse still beating through her veins.
Neither of them spoke.
The silence between them was loaded, charged with that aching awareness that one more look, one more word, would pull them straight back into the sheets.
