The room was plunged into silence.

The kind of silence that only exists after the climax—when the bodies have already screamed everything, and what remains is the echo of breath, the weight of surrender, and the feeling that something has been undone... or remade.

Zoey was still naked. Sitting on Victor's lap, her legs wrapped around his waist as if the world began and ended there. Her sweaty back stuck to his chest, their hearts beating in an almost identical rhythm. Her head resting on his ...