Chapter 335 - Morning wood

The first gray light of dawn crept through the narrow arrow-slits of Kaitlyna's bedchamber like a thief, pale and cold, painting thin stripes across the rumpled furs and the two bodies tangled beneath them. Aragon woke before the sun had fully risen, his blood already thick and restless, the way it always did after a night of hard fucking. His cock lay heavy against his thigh, half-hard from dreams that still clung to him—dreams of white hair and silver braids, of pious lips stretched around him, of a woman's soft belly pressed to stone as he took her from behind. But the warmth beside him was real: Kaitlyna, curled on her side, face half-buried in the pillow, lips parted in the slack peace of deep sleep.