“Morn, sweetheart.” A voice whispered in her ears, soft lips pressing firmly onto her silky shoulders. She moaned as the lips brushed against the sweet spot behind her ears.

　　Cracking one eye open, Amelia smiled as Conroy’s handsome face came into view, “Morn, Lucas.” She said in a whisper as he brushed his lips on hers.

　　The bright sunlight filtered into the room through the hangings on the stone openings that served as a windeye, casting an ethereal ...