The crimson silk sheets were still warm and tangled, heavy with the scent of sweat and release, when the door burst open with a force that made the enchanted candles gutter wildly.
"Flora! Why don't you open the damn door."
Luna stood frozen in the threshold, her red hair cascading like molten fire over her bare shoulders, golden eyes wide with shock that melted instantly into raw, burning jealousy. The flickering flames cast dancing shadows across the mirrors lining the wall—merciless mirrors that reflected every forbidden detail in crystal clarity.
There, on the massive four-poster bed, Aiden had Flora bent over the edge—her golden hair spilled across the pillows like spilled sunlight, back arched in perfect submission, ass high and trembling as he drove into her from behind with long, punishing strokes.
Flora's face was twisted in pure, shameless ecstasy, mouth open on endless, broken cries that echoed through the chamber like blasphemy.
