Zaya awoke the next morning to a scene of disarray - her hair was tangled, and the room was in disarray. Furniture was overturned, sheets were rumpled, and rose petals were scattered everywhere. The trail of roses leading to her bed was gone, replaced by the remnants of their passionate night.
A blush crept onto her face as memories of the previous night flooded her mind - the dinner, the rain, the front door, the bedroom, the bathroom and the bedroom again. She could still feel Kabir's touch on her skin, and the heat of their encounter lingered.
Her body ached, a testament to their energetic night. If she looked in the mirror, she knew she'd see love bites and hickeys on her skin, just as Kabir would see the marks of her fingernails on his own skin, a mutual reminder of their pleasure.
