"We really shouldn't be doing this…" Nathan murmured, his voice barely audible above the soft rustle of sheets.
He lay sprawled on the silken bedding of Fluvia's private chamber, the morning light slipping through the half-drawn curtains and casting a golden hue over their tangled limbs. Her room, hidden deep within the lavish Roman Senate castle, was a place of regal opulence—thick velvet drapes, marble statues of gods long since fallen from favor, and oil lamps that still faintly burned with the fragrance of sandalwood.
It was, without a shadow of a doubt, the worst possible location for keeping a secret affair. And yet, for the past several days, Nathan had risked everything to sneak into this very room—again and again. Not for politics. Not for schemes. Simply for her.
And for the sex. Passionate, desperate, loud sex.
