The afternoon sun, a warm, hazy glow, filtered through the heavy drapes of Lyra's chamber, casting long shadows across the opulent room. A thick silence hung in the air, broken only by the soft rhythm of two people breathing in unison. Lyra stirred, her eyelids fluttering open, her mind slowly piecing together the fragments of the previous night. A wave of heat washed over her as the memories flooded back: Alaric's touch, his kisses, the raw intensity of their shared passion.
Her eyes drifted downwards, and her breath caught in her throat. She was lying naked, her body intimately pressed against Alaric's. His arm was draped across her waist, his hand cupping her breast, his fingers gently nestled beneath the curve of her ample bosom. His blonde hair, slightly tousled, fell across his forehead, partially obscuring his closed red eyes. The sight of him, so close, so vulnerable in sleep, sent a shiver down her spine.
