Myla stirred against Hayden’s chest, her ear pressed over the steady thud of his heartbeat as the early morning sun casted colourful rays through the stainedd glass she made Hayden replace the broken one with. She could still taste herself on his mouth from last night, could still feel the slight ache deep inside from his relentless fingers.

Last night, he had acted a little like himself again. Dominant, hungry, possessive and hers.

She lifted her head off his chest, leaned on the headboard ...