The living room smelled faintly of cedar smoke, vanilla candles, and something warmer—something unmistakably intimate.
Shiki sat sprawled on the wide leather sofa, legs spread comfortably, one arm draped along the backrest. Ai straddled his lap facing him, knees sinking into the cushions on either side of his hips. Her ponytail was half-undone now—strands clinging to her flushed cheeks and neck from the heat building between them.
Their mouths were locked in a slow, hungry kiss.
