~ A few hours earlier ~
James Sinclair
I lay back against the pillows, utterly spent, the last remnants of tension slowly seeping out of my body.
Amber had done her job well—too well, perhaps. The room was dimly lit, a soft glow from the bedside lamp casting gentle shadows on the walls. The air was thick with the scent of s3x and sweat, mingling with the faintest trace of her perfume.
She was nestled against my side, her body warm and soft under the blankets. Her skin, smooth as silk, pressed against mine, her arm draped lazily across my chest. Our clothes were strewn across the floor, discarded in the heat of passion among the used cond0ms, now lying in careless disarray as if they too had been exhausted by the evening’s exertions.
She tilted her head to look at me, her lips curving
