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... the warmth.
It wasn’t the gentle warmth of the morning sun, but a heavy, encompassing heat, like being buried under two living, breathing blankets.
He slowly cracked his eyes open, the dim light of the new day filtering through the heavy curtains of the chamber.
He was in the middle, exactly as he had been at the peak of the night’s passion.
On his right, Zeva was curled against him, her wild, untamed nature from the night before replaced by the peaceful stillness ...
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