The sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows was the first thing Kiara felt when she woke up.
The second was the mild sensation of the silk sheets, and the third was a dull, persistent ache in her p***y that reminded her exactly how her world had shifted eight hours ago.
She groaned, burying her face in a pillow that still smelled like sandalwood and Vince’s beard oil.
"Morning, Sleeping Beauty."
Kiara bolted upright, clutching the duvet to her chest.
Vince was standing at the foot of the bed. He wasn't in one of his three-piece suits. He was wearing a white ribbed singlet that clung to his chest and a pair of dark boxer briefs.
His hair was messy, falling over his forehead, and he was holding a silver tray.
Kiara blinked, her voice raspy. "Are those... eggs?"
"Omele
