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In the Heat of Desire

Elara awoke the next morning wrapped in luxurious bedsheets, a contented sigh escaping her lips. The memories of the previous night—Damian’s hands tracing her curves, their bodies moving together in a heated rhythm, sent a shiver down her spine.

She reached out, expecting to find him beside her, but the space was empty. Frowning, she propped herself up on one elbow, taking in the rumpled sheets and the discarded clothing scattered across the floor. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she spotted Damian’s silk tie, a silent reminder of their passionate surrender to temptation.

The sound of the shower cutting off drew her attention to the ensuite bathroom. Moments later, Damian emerged, a towel slung low on his hips, water droplets glistening on his toned chest. Elara’s breath caught in her throat at the sight of him.

“Good morning,” he said, his deep voice sending a jolt of electricity through her.

“Morning,” she replied, unable to tear her eyes away as he approached the bed.
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