Zara’s POV
I didn’t expect it to happen again. Not that soon. Not when my body still ached from the first time. Not when we were still tangled in the remnants of a storm and all the rules we shattered hours ago.
But it did.
God, it did.
We lay on the couch for a while after the kitchen—his chest rising and falling under my cheek, his fingers lazily tracing the dip of my spine. The candles were still flickering, casting our bodies in gold. Everything felt surreal, like we were caught in a dream neither of us wanted to wake up from.
“I should go to bed,” I whispered, even though I didn’t move.
His fingers stilled. “Then go.”
I lifted my head to look at him. “Alone?”
His gaze locked with mine. Something flickered in his eyes again. Hunger. Possession.
“No,” he said.
Then he stood, t
