The room was quiet now. Just the faint hum of the city through the window and their mingled breathing filling the space between them. The heat of their bodies still clung to the air, but the intensity had ebbed, leaving something softer in its place. A different kind of intimacy—one that had nothing to prove, no rush to get anywhere.
Just them.
Ella lay sprawled across Nicholas's chest, her cheek pressed over his heartbeat, her legs tangled with his. His arm was draped across her bare back, palm resting low, fingers gently moving up and down her spine like he couldn't stop touching her. And maybe he couldn't. Not now. Not after that.
Her skin was warm, slightly damp from sweat and effort, and she made a sleepy little sigh when his fingertips grazed the dip at the base of her spine.
"Are you trying to tickle me?" she murmured, voice soft and slightly hoarse from all the breathless sounds he'd wrung out of her earlier.
