A bittersweet moment

She turned to her handsome lover, a smile of gratitude and bliss on his lips. He returned her with a satisfied smile, mission accomplished. He knew she would only experience this moment once, but that thanks to him, it would forever remain unique.

Emma's breath was still in short bursts, her chest rising in small heaves as Armand's, their skin clammy with the shared warmth.

Emma felt Armand's muscles relax against her, his powerful chest slowly falling as he caught his breath, his warmth still palpable between her trembling thighs. A drop of sweat beaded at her temple, sliding down her jaw before disappearing into the rumpled sheets. She closed her eyes, savoring every residual shiver that ran through her body, every dull pulse where he was still nestled inside her, deep, possessive.

They remained like this for a long time, pressed against each other, but Armand placed a kiss on her forehead.

• I'll leave you, my beauty. Mr. Roarke must be waiting for you. Take a shower. Look on the table, grab something. It's a choice to make, I think. He stood up, letting her admire his beautiful ebony body before he walked away, looking at her one last time, ending this magical moment.

Emma felt the weight of Armand's departure even before he stood up, the caress of his last kiss on her forehead still burning like an invisible mark. The cool air of the room replaced his warmth as he withdrew from her, leaving behind a damp, trembling void between her thighs. His fingers brushed the crumpled sheet where his body had pressed against her, as if to hold back the echo of their union.

She got up reluctantly, took a shower that washed away that blissful sweat and scent. She shed a bittersweet tear that was lost in the stream that flowed at her feet. She dried herself, approached the table, and hesitated between a collar and a riding crop. Finally, she wanted to change, the little girl finished, she was a woman, she took the whip.

She felt a presence behind her, it was Mr. Myers, looking at her. She had a moment of modesty, but recovered, tightened her grip, and showed her the riding crop. He nodded. She felt he knew what she was feeling at that moment. She had moved on. He picked up her tunic and helped her put it on, while he held her in his arms for a moment.

• Let's go, Mrs. Myers. Your friend has had her fill. I think we should join her; she'll have a hard time coming alone. Emma leaned her head against his shoulder and followed him, she hadn't expected what she discovered.