Moonlight filtered softly through the curtains, casting a silver hue across the tangled sheets and the bare bodies lying intertwined beneath them. The air was thick with warmth, the scent of their desire lingering in the room like a secret only the night could hold.
Zayan lay beside Nora, his fingers brushing gentle patterns along her spine. Her skin, still flushed and warm from their earlier union, trembled beneath his touch. The fire between them hadn't dimmed — it only simmered, ready to ignite again at the lightest spark.
He looked up at her, his eyes dark with longing and something deeper — something possessive, protective, eternal.
"Can I make you mine, darling?" he asked, voice low and rough, almost reverent.
Nora leaned over him, her hair cascading like a curtain around their faces. Her gaze locked onto his, a smile playing on her lips. "Make me yours, Master," she whispered, the words like silk against his skin.
A growl rose from his chest as he pulled her down, his mouth finding hers in a hungry kiss. He didn't rush — no, this time was slower, more intense, like he wanted to memorize every inch of her, claim her in ways words never could.
His hands roamed over her curves, learning her all over again. As his mouth found her breast, his lips closed around her nipple, and she gasped. Her head fell back, her eyes fluttering shut, the world tilting as waves of pleasure rolled through her.
Her fingers tangled in his hair as he pulled her closer, as though afraid she'd vanish if he let go. Their bodies moved in rhythm again, slow and steady, as if their souls were dancing beneath the stars. He whispered her name like a vow against her neck, against her shoulder, against her heart.
Nora clung to him, her breaths shallow and uneven. "Zayan…" she whispered, as her body arched into his.
He kissed her like he was drowning and she was air, holding her like she was everything he'd ever wanted. Their passion built again — slower this time, deeper, drawn from the very core of who they were.
As they moved together once more, the world outside faded. There was only the two of them — raw, real, and lost in each other. He marked her soul that night with every kiss, every touch, every breathless cry of her name.
By the time the dawn threatened to rise, Nora lay against his chest, their bodies tangled and hearts racing in perfect sync.
She was his.
And he — completely, irrevocably — was hers.