For a long second, neither of them moved.
Aurora's body still trembled, pressed to the cold wall, Rafael's release dripping down her thighs. The silence between them was louder than any scream she'd ever heard.
"You owe me the truth," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "You owe me that."
Rafael's back was to her now. He was tugging on a pair of black trousers, jaw set, shoulders tight.
"I owe you safety. Shelter. Pleasure." He didn't look at her. "Not explanations."
Her stomach twisted.
"Then let me go."
That got his attention. Slowly, he turned, his eyes dragging over her still-naked form like a slow cut.
"You want to leave?"
She raised her chin, even as her knees threatened to give out. "I want to see my father."
He walked toward her—slow, dangerous. She braced herself, expecting the heat, the fury, the possessive grip.
But instead… he stopped just in front of her. Bare chest rising and falling.
