The first thing Ava felt was warmth. Not just the lingering heat of skin against skin, but the steady rhythm of his breath against her temple. She opened her eyes slowly, the pale morning light spilling through the curtains, and reality rushed back all at once.
Ethan.
His arm was draped around her waist, heavy and possessive, anchoring her to the bed they had shared. Their clothes were scattered across the floor in careless abandon, silent proof of what they had done.
Ava’s pulse quickened. Last night had been reckless, impossible, and unforgettable. Every kiss, every touch was etched into her, but so was the guilt. She wasn’t supposed to want him like this.
Shifting carefully, she tried to slip from his hold.
“Don’t,” his voice murmured, still rough with sleep.
She froze. He didn’t
