The hotel room at Stellar Heights was a warm, glowing cocoon. The air was thick with the faint scent of lavender and the heady heat of our bodies, the snowy cityscape outside the large window painting an ethereal scene—twinkling lights blanketed by falling snowflakes, visible from the 12th floor.
Aeri sat on the wide window sill, her naked body pressed against the cool glass, her messy hair glowing under the chandelier's light. I stood between her thighs, equally bare, our champagne glasses forgotten beside us, the taste of the crisp, bubbly liquid still lingering on our lips. We were lost in each other as we keep on smooching.
