The hotel room was dimly lit, shadows flickering softly across the walls as the city outside buzzed with life. Chloe lay back against the plush pillows, her heart pounding as Ezra leaned closer, his eyes dark with emotion and something deeper—something raw and unguarded.
He cupped her face with reverence, brushing his lips along her cheek before trailing them down her jaw. His fingers ghosted over her waist, igniting sparks that danced beneath her skin. There was no rush, only the ache of slow discovery. Their kisses deepened—tender and aching—as his hands explored her, reading the language of her body like it was poetry written only for him.
"You feel like home," he murmured against her skin. His voice cracked—part desire, part disbelief—as if he was still trying to accept that she was really his.
Chloe's breath hitched. Her hands clutched at his shirt, pulling him closer until their bodies aligned, heartbeats syncing. She wrapped herself around him, letting the unspoken words fall away as sensation took over.
Their night unraveled in soft sighs and whispered promises, a slow, sensual dance that built and built, until the lines between breath and moan, between longing and having, blurred completely.
Through the thin walls of the hotel suite, Ava stirred.
She turned, half-asleep, only to meet Damien's wide eyes.
A muffled gasp filtered in from the adjacent room—followed by a soft, shaky moan—and both Ava and Damien went completely still. There was no mistaking those sounds.
Damien blinked, and a grin tugged at the corner of his lips. "I guess they're...making good use of the hotel."
Ava swatted his arm lightly, flustered, cheeks burning. "Stop listening."
"Oh come on," Damien whispered, inching closer, his hand brushing her bare thigh under the blanket. "They started it."
Another moan—this one more drawn out—echoed faintly through the wall. Ava's breath caught as Damien leaned in, his voice husky against her ear. "Now it's hard to ignore."
A slow heat coiled in her stomach as Damien's hand slid gently over her waist, pulling her against him. Their breaths mingled in the dark, the electricity between them reigniting as they surrendered once again to the pull neither could resist.
Their night became a quiet storm—hungry kisses, whispered I missed you's, a thousand touches that said what words couldn't. It was passion laced with love, the kind that didn't just burn—it consumed.
And in the silence between heartbeats, when the moans faded into stillness, Damien whispered something against her lips that made her trembled.
"You're still mine."