Chapter 33 She Signs His Name Inside Her

• The morning after did not begin with sunlight or softness. There was no stretch of comfort, no lazy warmth between their bodies. There was only the ache that clung to her like a second skin, familiar and silent.
• It was not pain. Not in the way most people would describe it. It was a deeper kind of reminder. Something that lived inside the strain of her muscles and the faint resistance in her thighs each time she tried to move. Her skin still held the memory of his grip, and when she shifted slightly to sit upright, the whisper of that memory ran down the length of her spine and settled low in her belly.
• Victor had not been careless. He never moved without intent. Every touch, every command, every motion he made carried with it a purpose that did not ask for permission. Ivy knew that now. She had known it the night before, and she felt it even more clearly now, in the quiet stillness that filled the room.