Needed you.
⸻ Genevieve I stirred under the sheets, the faint scent of vanilla and cinnamon tugging me from sleep. My body ached in the most sinful ways, but it was a good ache—warm, stretched, satisfied. For a split second, I forgot where I was. Then I heard the voice. “Good morning, sunshine.” I blinked, slowly adjusting to the light that trickled in through the curtains. Saint Laurent stood there—shirtless, of course—his brown skin kissed by morning light, holding a tray that looked like it came out of some five-star room service fantasy. “You’re smiling,” I muttered, sitting up slowly, letting the sheet cover my bare chest. “That’s terrifying.” He laughed, a low, deep sound that filled the room. “It’s just breakfast, not poison.” He set the tray on the bed between us and sat down beside me
- Writer
