The room reeked of sex and sweat, the air thick and stifling, the sheets twisted and half-hanging off the bed. Caleb rolled onto his back, chest rising and falling, a sheen of sweat gleaming on his skin. He dragged a hand through his hair, his other arm thrown over his face like he couldn't quite look at her yet.
Aveline lay there, her body aching in all the right ways, a dark satisfaction curling in her belly. But beneath it, something else too. Something dangerous.
She reached out, tracing a finger along the ridge of his collarbone, feeling his pulse thrum beneath her touch. He flinched slightly, but didn't pull away.
"You shouldn't have come here," she murmured, her voice hoarse and wrecked.
Caleb gave a humorless laugh, moving his arm just enough to meet her gaze. "When has that ever stopped me?"
