The next day began with a soft, rhythmic knock at the door. I knew that knock. Beside me, Chloe was still deep in sleep, her head a warm weight against my chest. I eased out from under her with practiced care, expecting the usual protest from my spine, but the ache was gone. I felt light, recharged, and bold.
I didn't bother with a robe. I walked to the door exactly as I was, letting my cock and its obvious morning energy—greet the world.
I swung the door open. Sasha stood there, looking radiant.
"Hey," she said, her voice a low purr. Her eyes didn't stay on my face; they took a slow tour down my body and back up again, a smirk playing on her lips.
"Hey yourself," I replied, leaning casually against the doorframe.
"So," she said, her gaze flickering toward the bed behind me. "How was the main event last night?"
"Perfect," I said, and I meant it. "Best night of my life."
