The world felt slow and hazy.
I lay on the bed, limbs tangled in sheets and warmth, my skin still damp, my body pleasantly sore in that way that left no room for doubt about what had just happened. The air was thick, heavy with heat and closeness, the kind that made moving feel unnecessary.
Su Ye was pressed against me, close enough that I could feel his heartbeat through my back. His arm circled my waist, fingers lazily tracing along my skin before tightening, pulling me closer until I was practically molded to him.
His lips brushed my ear. He bit gently, just enough to make me shiver. "Wife," he murmured, his voice low and unrepentant, "I want to do it again."
A soft sound slipped out of me before I could stop it—half agreement, half surrender.
I wanted to.
The thought barely had time to form before reality crashed down on me.
My eyes flew open.
