The carriage mansion's lanterns glowed like fireflies against the inky night as Jett and Mia rose from their entwined languor. Sheets of crimson velvet pooled around them, heavy with the scent of their union. The hush of satisfied stillness thrummed in the air—but desire still licked at Jett's gut. He met Mia's flushed face, eyes dark with hunger.
She offered him a shy smile, hair damp and clinging to her porcelain shoulders. "My lord," she whispered, voice husky, "may I serve you further?"
A slow grin curved Jett's lips. "You may." His hand slipped beneath the rumpled sheets, brushing her inner thigh. Mia's breath fluttered; her gaze dipped to his fingers tracing the curve of her hip.
