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... drifted between sleep and wakefulness. My eyes fluttered open halfway before I blinked against the soft light filtering through the curtains. The space beside me was cold. Empty.

Nero’s side of the bed.

For a moment, I just stared at it, disoriented, the faint scent of him still lingering on the pillow. My body still ached deliciously from this morning— a reminder of his touch, of how he’d worshiped every inch of me.

I sat up slowly, clutching the sheets against my bare ...

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