The night was still young, yet the moon spilled its quiet light through the high window like a lover's caress into the room, casting silver lines across the bed where Anana lay. Her bare skin, warm and flushed, was tangled loosely in soft white bed sheets that clung to her curves like whispers.
She stirred in her sleep, a soft sigh escaping her parted lips as a slow-burning heat travelled through her, molten and steady as dreams of Lucien crept into her thoughts like smoke, curling through the corners of her consciousness with the intimacy of a touch.
She could feel the way his strong hand had wrapped around her waist with quiet possessiveness, pulling her close to the hard lines of his chest. Her body, even in sleep, remembered the heat of him.
The steady thrum of his heartbeat press
