~Sienna~

The morning sun filters through the heavy velvet curtains of the guest room, casting long, golden streaks across the silk sheets. I wake up not to the cold fear of a basement, but to the searing, delicious heat of Norman’s hands. He is already awake, his body pressed flush against my back, his palms roaming over my skin with a possessive touch that makes my breath hitch instantly.

“Good morning,” he grunts into my ear, sending goosebumps down my body.

“Morning,” I ...