POV: Dante
There is a second, just after someone's orgasm, when the world goes blank.
Last night, in that second, the only thing that existed was the sound of her broken breathing in my ear and the trembling of her hands clutching my shoulders as if nothing else mattered.
Then everything came back. Umbra. Valcourt. The foundation. And her, trembling in my bed.
Now she's asleep next to me.
The panel returned to normal a while ago: "calm dawn." There is no real sky, but the soft light outlines her back under her wrinkled T-shirt. Her scent fills the room: sex, sweat, forest mixed with dry coffee. And that sweet thread of satisfied omega that my wolf recognizes immediately.
I could stay here looking at her like this for hours.
That's the problem.
There's a line that, until last night, I could still pretend we hadn't crossed. Not anymore. Not after having her arching under my hands, saying my name as if it were the only thing holding her up.
