"BETTER?" Grayson asked softly, his fingers combing through her disheveled hair with gentle strokes.
"Much," she admitted, then shifted in his arms until she could see his face clearly.
The firelight painted golden highlights across his sharp features, but she could still see the strain there, the careful control he was maintaining even after giving her such exquisite release. "But what about you?"
His body was still rigid with unfulfilled desire, his breathing carefully controlled in a way that suggested he was fighting his own battle against the needs coursing through him.
"I'll manage," he said, though the roughness in his voice suggested otherwise.
Mailah moved to touch him, her fingers trailing toward his chest, but he caught her hand gently.
"Don't," he said, his voice strained. "I won't be able to hold back. Not after…" He gestured vaguely at the charged space between them, thick with the remnants of their intimacy.
