The morning light glowed softly through the curtains, spilling over the bed where the white sheets were stained with traces of blood. Yichen's bare skin was marked from head to toe with bites, kisses, and faint red scars. His breathing was slow, peaceful, as he slept in Zhaoyan's arms — both of them tangled together under the sheets, completely naked.
Zhaoyan held him close, a faint smile curving his lips as he whispered, almost to himself, "Finally, I make you mine."
Yichen's eyelashes fluttered before his eyes slowly opened. He felt a gentle hand patting his head, warm and steady. He rubbed his eyes… then froze.
His gaze darted down. He was naked. So was Zhaoyan.
In an instant, memories from last night crashed back into his mind — the touch, the heat, the mingled breath, and the word husband… how he had called Zhaoyan that, over and over.
Flustered, Yichen squeezed his eyes shut again, his face burning with embarrassment.
"Good morning," Zhaoyan murmured.
