Morning light filtered softly and golden through the rain-streaked windows of the safe-house bedroom, painting Isha’s naked skin in warm honey tones. The air was thick with the scent of last night’s sex — salty sweat, her sweet arousal, and the faint sandalwood lingering on their bodies. Isha stirred first, her full, heavy breasts pressed warmly against Zayn’s chest, dark nipples still faintly swollen and sensitive from the hours he had spent worshipping them. She felt the steady thump of his heartbeat and smiled, nuzzling closer so the soft weight of her tits dragged deliberately across his skin.Zayn’s arm tightened around her waist. “Don’t move,” he murmured, voice gravel-rough with sleep and fresh hunger. “Not yet.”She didn’t. Instead, she arched her back, offering her breasts to him like a gift. Zayn groaned low, one hand sliding up to cup the heavy, perfect globe of her left breast. His thumb brus
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