The morning after felt different.
Sienna woke with the deep, satisfying ache between her legs and the memory of Roman’s voice still in her head. This is not just s*x for me anymore. The words refused to leave. She lay in bed staring at the ceiling, heart already restless, knowing that something had shifted permanently the night before.
Downstairs, the house sounded normal. Her mother’s soft laughter. The clink of coffee cups. Roman’s low replies. Ordinary sounds that now felt dangerous.
She forced herself out of bed, showered, and went down.
Roman was at the table, black shirt open at the collar, reading something on his phone. He looked up the moment she entered. Their eyes met across the kitchen. The air tightened the same way it always did, but this time there was something heavier
