Ariana's POV
I woke up alone.
The side of the bed where Roman had been was empty. The sheets were rumpled, still warm, and carried the faint scent of him smoke, mint, and something darker, something him. My body ached, tender and spent, a reminder of everything that happened last night.
Or did it?
I blinked, staring up at the ceiling.
Had it all been some twisted dream? A product of my own desire and delusion? Had Roman really touched me like that—kissed me, fingered me, said those things in the dark with his voice all rough and low?
A dream wouldn’t have left my thighs this sore.
And yet he was gone.
No note. No sound. Just the emptiness and the memory of his mouth on my skin.
My heart squeezed. I sat up slowly, dragging the blanket over my chest even though I was alone. My sweat
