Aaron's POV
As the last rays of the setting sun slowly started slipping away, the young lord stepped out of his room, carelessly leaving his doors open behind him. His brows were creased and his eyes swept the corridor without aim. His mind was elsewhere, particularly another time.
Ever since he had woken up, he couldn't stop thinking about last night. He could still feel her warm mouth gliding against his skin, her nimble hands riding up his thighs and the sheer strength of her being, holding him down like a puppet.
She was the epitome of desire. She had him wrapped around his fingers like a placid vine, though he was loath to admit it. He would never admit it, Aaron told himself as he descended yet another flight of stairs. The sheer audacity of that woman to sneak into his room in the middle of the night! Had she no sense of morality?
