The silence that followed the storm was not empty; it was a heavy, vibrating stillness that seemed to hum with the residue of their passion. The steam continued to curl lazily toward the ceiling, but Sabrina no longer felt the chill of the air or the dampness of the water.
She was encased in a cocoon of pure, visceral warmth.
As Mike remained buried deep inside her, his heavy weight a comforting anchor against her trembling body, Sabrina drifted in a state of sublime intoxication. It wasn't just the physical exhaustion; it was a profound, psychological intoxication.
She felt as though she had been drinking a potent, celestial nectar, and the high was so intense that the world of logic, of schedules, of "Professor Sabrina," had simply ceased to exist.
But the most incredible part was the sensation within. She could feel him.
