Kayla
The doors to the private elevator chimed when it they opened. I thought I was dreaming when I heard the sound.
I didn't hear the sound of shoes against tile till I felt a shadow fall over me. The sun pouring through the floor-to-ceiling windows was give.
I shifted, tossing and turning till my eyes fluttered open, and the first thing I saw was Damien. He was already dressed in a crisp black shirt, sleeves rolled up, looking down at me with an unreadable expression.
I realized then how I was positioned. My silk nightdress had hitched up nearly to my hip, exposing the full length of my thigh.
The lace at the neckline had slipped, the sheer material pressing against my skin and leaving very little to the imagination.
"Good morning," Damien said. His voice was a low, gravelly rasp
