Hours passed.
By the time the night finally began to quiet, Emery's body was limp and utterly spent.
Her skin was flushed, her lips swollen from kissing, her thighs marked with the evidence of how thoroughly she had been used.
She lay across the sheets in a loose, boneless sprawl, consciousness slipping away in soft, exhausted waves.
The last thing she felt was the residual heat of him still inside her, and the quiet certainty that she had been claimed completely.
Lin Feng had proven himself as skilled a lover in bed as he was powerful in cultivation.
"Sleep well, Emery," Lin Feng said.
He leaned down and kissed her one last time. It was slow, lingering, almost gentle after everything that had come before. Then he rose from the bed.
There was still a class he needed to teach, and the work never truly ended. Life would hold little meaning without purpose, and for Lin Feng that purpose had always been teaching.
