My muscles, still marked by Athos's careful touch from the previous night, seemed to throb in a slow reverberation, like an echo refusing to dissipate.

I sat on the edge of the bed, the satin robe slipping naturally from my shoulders, exposing the delicate curve of my neck, the soft line of my décolletage, and the tops of my breasts, which trembled from the morning's coolness and the heat of the memory of what had happened. The aroma of fresh coffee wafted from the kitchen in waves, mingling ...