The night air was quiet, heavy with an intimacy that neither of them spoke of but both understood.

Cynthia stepped into Mike’s bedroom slowly, her bare feet brushing the soft rug that stretched beneath the massive king-size bed. Everything about the room was dark, masculine, and intimidating—but somehow, it didn’t scare her tonight. It felt different now. Warmer. Because he had chosen her.

Mike stood by the side of the bed, undoing the final button of his shirt, his gaze fixed on her. A rare softness clung to his expression. “Comfortable?” he asked.

Cynthia nodded as she glanced around. “It’s... bigger than before”

He chuckled. “Good. You’ll get used to...