Julian stirred awake as the first rays of the sun crept through the chamber's window. The room was bathed in silence, broken only by the rhythmic rise and fall of Gregoria's chest as she lay beside him, deep in sleep.
Her nightgown was bunched around her hips, exposing the marks of the night before. A slow, satisfied smirk tugged at his lips as he drank in the sight. She looked thoroughly ruined—her hair a wild mess, her body still bearing traces of his claim.
Augustus remained unchanged, oblivious to the wicked sins that were committed just inches away.
"Fuck, we went hard," Julian thought, sliding out of the bed, careful not to disturb her.
His bare feet met the cool stone floor, sending a slight shiver up his spine. His robe hung loosely over his shoulders, revealing glimpses of the body that had overpowered hers again and again. He rolled his shoulders, feeling the pleasant ache that came with domination.
