Draven.
I led her into the bathing chamber. The air was warm and fragrant with the vanilla, rose petals, and sandalwood weaving together like a gentle spell.
Candlelight flickered against the marble walls, their glow soft enough to make the whole room feel alive.
She stood there for a moment, her eyes sweeping over the bath. The water glistened, its surface shimmering with small ripples and floating petals.
When she turned to me, her lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to speak but couldn't find the words.
"Let me," I murmured.
I stepped closer, my fingers finding the hem of her sweater. Her breath caught, but she didn't move away.
Slowly, I pulled the fabric upward, my fingertips brushing against the soft skin of her waist. The sweater came off easily, and I set it aside.
Her pulse fluttered beneath her throat when my hands found the clasp of her trousers. I met her gaze—searching, asking, before I unfastened them.
