Mirabelle's brain slowly began resuming its normal functions piece by piece.
While her body was still entirely occupied with the lingering aftershocks, the outside world suddenly crashed back into her senses all at once.
Before, her awareness had been turned completely inward.
Now everything around her felt painfully sharp.
The cool moonlight streaming through the windows into the hallway, making the white stone shimmer softly.
The lanterns swaying gently overhead, casting shifting geometric patterns of light that constantly moved and danced across the walls.
The heavy scent of roses battling with the fresh sharpness of mint until both nearly overwhelmed her senses.
The salty smell of sweat.
The spicy scent of sex still clinging to both of them.
Her own unsteady breathing, loud enough to drown out almost every other sound around them.
Except for Lucien's low satisfied rumble that sounded dangerously close to a purr.
And his eyes.
