Chapter Ten: Morning Heat

The sun spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows, painting the apartment in soft, golden light. The night’s storm of lust had ebbed into a quiet hum, leaving behind a haze of warmth and satisfaction. Ayan was already awake, lounging shirtless at the head of the dining table, his coffee untouched as he scrolled absently through his phone.

The sound of light, bare footsteps on the reflective marble floor pulled his attention up.

Saba emerged from the bedroom, moving with a feline ease across the sleek, modern space. Her robe was white and flowing, brushing against her calves as she walked. Beneath it, glimpses of silky black fabric clung to her body, revealing just enough to tease the imagination. Her hair spilled in loose waves over her shoulders, her face glowing with that impossible mix of elegance and languor that only came after a night like theirs.

Ayan froze, his breath catching as his gaze trailed down her frame. And then it hit him—this radiant, untouchable woman had been beneath him just hours ago, trembling and crying his name as he poured himself into her. His cock had been inside her. He had spilled deep into her heat. The vivid memory rushed back, and to his own surprise, he felt his cheeks warm.

Saba noticed. Of course she noticed. A sly smile curved her lips as she moved closer, every sway of her hips deliberate.

“My, my,” she murmured, slipping into a chair opposite him. “Is that a blush I see? What’s on your mind, Ayan?”

He cleared his throat, reaching for his coffee as if it could shield him. “Just… thinking about last night.”

Her laugh was soft but edged with mockery. “Last night?” She leaned forward, chin resting in her palm, her eyes dancing. “You mean when you ravaged me like some starved animal? Or when you nearly broke my bed frame slamming into me?”

Ayan groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t say it like that…”

“Why not?” she teased, her grin widening. “I should be complimenting you, shouldn’t I? You did perform spectacularly.” Her voice dipped lower, smoky. “I’m still sore, if you must know.”

His cock stirred under the table at her words. He leaned forward, trying for composure but failing at the heat in his tone. “Was I… too rough?”

Saba tilted her head, her smile slow and dangerous. “Sometimes a woman likes her man to lose control. To be beastly. It reminds her how badly she’s desired.” She paused, sipping from his coffee cup without asking, leaving a print of lipstick on the rim. “So no, Ayan. You were exactly what I needed.”

The knot in his chest loosened into a grin. “Good. Because I don’t plan to hold back with you.”

“Bold words for someone blushing over breakfast,” she shot back.

He smirked. “I’m not blushing. Just… remembering certain details.”

“Mm, like?”

“Like how I came to know about your… raunchy preferences.” His eyes flickered knowingly to her lips, then lower.

Her laughter was rich and decadent, curling around him like smoke. “Careful,” she warned playfully, “you’re starting to sound like you think you know me.”

“I know enough,” he countered. “At least about what you crave when the lights go out.”

Saba’s eyes glinted. “Maybe. But outside the sheets?” She spread her arms theatrically, letting the robe slip just slightly at her shoulder. “You don’t know the first thing about me.”

His smile softened, though his tone stayed edged with mischief. “Then let me. Tell me—are you sad about the divorce? About Tahir?”

She leaned back in her chair, exhaling a laugh. “Sad? Oh, darling…” Her gaze was sharp, teasing, but something unreadable flickered behind it. “You really don’t know anything about me.”

For a heartbeat, silence stretched between them. Then Ayan leaned across the table, his grin returning. “I may not know everything, but I do know you like to be bitten when you’re about to come. That’s something.”

Her cheeks flushed faintly, though her smirk never wavered. “You’re insufferable,” she muttered, but her voice had gone huskier.

He shrugged. “You love it.”

“I tolerate it.” She rose to her feet, moving gracefully around the table until she was standing behind him. Her fingers trailed over his shoulders, down his chest, lazy and possessive. “Tell you what, Ayan…” She bent to whisper in his ear, her breath warm. “If you want to know more about me, take me on a date. Tonight.”

He turned his head slightly, their lips almost brushing. “A date?”

“Yes,” she said, straightening, playful authority in her stance. “Not just sweat and tangled sheets. Prove you can woo me as well as you can fuck me.”

Ayan grinned, leaning back in his chair, gazing up at her. “Consider it done. But just know… after the date, I’m tearing this robe off you.”

Saba laughed, stepping away, her hips swaying deliberately as she walked toward the kitchen. “We’ll see, Mr. Possessive.”

Ayan watched her go, the blush gone now, replaced by the same hunger that had first set him ablaze. A date or not, tonight promised to be just as unforgettable as last night.