The morning after that long, desperate night felt different, softer and almost sacred. My body was deliciously sore everywhere, a map of last night’s passion, but instead of rushing to hide it, I let myself feel it. I turned slowly in Damien’s arms, careful not to wake him too abruptly. He was still deeply asleep, face relaxed in a way I rarely saw, one arm slung possessively over my waist.I watched him for a long moment, tracing the line of his jaw with my eyes. Last night I had thrown everything I had at him, my body, my voice, my pleas, trying to prove I was all in. Today, I just wanted to love him gently.When his eyes finally fluttered open, he smiled sleepily and pulled me closer. “Morning, baby.”“Morning,” I whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.We didn’t speak much at first. He rolled me onto my back with that quiet strength I loved, settling between my legs. This time there was no rush, no roughness. He entered me slowly, inch by inch, eyes locked on mine the entire
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