Steve lay on the floor, shirt slightly rucked up, the hard line of his body rising and falling with every breath.
He looked peaceful… but proud, like he knew exactly what he was doing—laying there like temptation itself.
Fiona stood frozen, heart beating a little too fast. Her gaze slipped, traitorous, down his frame—and stopped.
The bulge in his pants was unmistakable, straining, pulsing faintly with each breath. Heat flickered through her.
Her thighs pressed together before she even realized she'd moved.
'God, what's wrong with me?...right now? Really?' she thought, cheeks burning. But it wasn't just memory—it was craving. Pure, aching, animal.
She bit her lip, trying to look away, but her eyes were drawn back like a moth to flame. She remembered the way he used to touch her, the weight of him, the hunger they used to feed off each other.
She glanced at the magic guard nearby—fast asleep, unmoving. Fiona whispered under her breath, just to break the silence.
