The next morning, Maris sat at the edge of her bed, staring blankly at the floor. The events of last night haunted her, sending waves of guilt and embarrassment crashing over her. She could barely believe what she had done. Not just the kiss—that fleeting, daring kiss that had left her heart racing—but what had happened afterward.
She buried her face in her hands, her cheeks burning. What was I thinking? She had let her emotions take over, her body responding in ways she hadn't anticipated. The memory of her own touch, of how she had lost control, filled her with shame. She had never felt anything like that before—never been so overwhelmed by her feelings for Lucan.
