The morning light crept through the gap in the curtains.
Natalia woke slowly. Her body ached in places that made her smile. Her thighs were sore. Her core felt bruised in the best possible way. And between her legs, a sticky warmth reminded her of everything they'd done.
Three times.
They'd done it three times.
Each round had pushed her further. Stretched her limits. Left her gasping and begging and completely shameless in ways that would have mortified the old Natalia. The ice princess who sneered at her disgusting stepbrother. The prodigy who thought she was above such base desires.
That girl was dead.
This Natalia lay tangled in sweat-soaked sheets with Satori's seed drying on her thighs and a genuine smile on her face.
She turned her head.
He was still asleep.
