The morning light continued its slow worship outside them.
In the bathroom, across her skin more of her fabric fell away, turning every newly revealed curve into something almost sacred. Phei's hands moved with deliberate patience, each brush of his fingers against her skin drawing a quiet response from both of them.
The simple act of undressing Melissa felt like another form of claiming — tender, possessive, and filled with the quiet reverence of a man who had already spent the night learning every inch of her and still found himself hungry to learn more.
He kissed the hollow of her throat, then the gentle slope of her collarbone, letting his mouth linger just long enough for her to feel the warmth of it. Melissa's breathing had grown softer, slower, her body leaning into every new kiss as though the morning itself had become an extension of their shared closeness.
