I woke up on Lysander’s chest, it’s morning in New York the skyline pitched in grey. I felt heat reach my blossoms, drawing it's source to his body part I had slid to during the ravenous night. My breast was pressed hard to his hot skin with his stuff length against my legs even now. I lifted my head trying to peer at the lion of my night, Lysander. His eyes were closed, so peaceful in sleep, it was hard to belief that the same face had harbored so much violence and darkness last ...