BEVERLY A quiet, rhythmic touch against my shoulder slowly pulled me out of the deep, dreamless void I had fallen into. I stirred with a long, breathless sigh, my heavy eyelids fluttering open. The private suite was still draped in warm shadows, the stone hearth casting a soft, flickering amber glow across the charcoal velvet duvet. For a second, my mind floated in a hazy, weightless twilight, feeling the deep, thrumming ache centered between my thighs—a constant, throb of absolute fulfillment that reminded me of everything that had just transpired on this mattress. Damian was leaning over me, his broad shoulders blocking out the dim light. He was wrapped in a thick, dark charcoal plush robe, his dark hair slightly rumpled, his sharp amber eyes watching me with a quiet, unyielding focus. "Time to wake up, little one," Damian rumbled softly, his deep, gravelly voice a soothing vibration against the quiet room. "You’ve slept for thirty minutes. Your body needs to be cared for
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