Evangeline's eyes stirred before her sleepy eyelids slowly opened.
Her body was being pressed by something firm and heavy, yet still undeniably warm. She was lying on her back, her wings pressed beneath her, which made her a little uncomfortable since her nerves were connected to her wings. Beside her, Maximilian was sleeping, his back facing the ceiling. His head rested on her chest, just above her curvy mounds. One of his hands was wrapped around her waist while one of his legs was placed over both of Evangeline's.
The memory of last night, when she had shamelessly rubbed her lower region against him, hit her like a broken dam of embarrassment, her face flushing red.
She pressed her crimson cheeks with both hands and screamed inwardly, 'What had gotten into me last night? How could I act so shameless? What if My Lord thinks that I'm a degenerate—'
