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AUTHOR’S POV
Sloane laid in bed, her body tangled in the soft sheets, her skin still warm from the morning they had shared.
The sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting golden hues across the room, painting shadows that stretched and curled across the walls.
The scent of Damon lingered on the pillows, on her skin, in the very air she breathed.
But instead of feeling comforted, she felt hollow.
Her body was spent, exhausted from the way he had worshipped her, from the way he had whispered her name like a prayer against her skin.
Every touch, every kiss had left her unraveled, exposed, completely his in a way she hadn’t been ready to admit.
And yet, she had given herself to him anyway.
A sigh escaped her lips as she stared at the ceiling, her limbs too heavy
