The first rays of dawn barely pierced the dense canopy above, scattering thin streaks of light across the forest floor, illuminating the dew-laden leaves. Dante and Isabella were awake long before the sun had fully risen, their bodies still intertwined, skin slick with the remnants of the night’s fire. Every touch, every kiss from the hours before lingered like a ghost, making Isabella’s pulse race even in the quiet of morning.

Dante’s hand moved over her back with a deliberate slowness, dragging her closer, anchoring them together. His lips brushed the crown of her head, then the shell of her ear, whispering her name as though it were a prayer,...