Warning: Mature content in the chapter
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Evaline:
The world hadn't yet steadied. My breath came uneven, shallow, my body trembling as the aftershocks rippled through me. The sheets beneath me were tangled, my skin still warm from the storm he had drawn out of me. Every nerve felt alive, over-sensitized, waiting... aching... for more.
Draven's hand brushed down my thigh, his touch so gentle that it contrasted sharply with the wildness still blazing in his eyes. He was still between my legs, half-shadowed by the soft sunlight spilling through the window, his chest rising and falling with the same uneven rhythm as mine.
I watched him silently. He was still dressed, though his shirt clung to his chest, open at the collar, his breath rough as if holding himself back cost him everything. And his emerald gaze was holding me prisoner.
"Draven…" My voice broke somewhere between his name and a plea.
