X Art Gianna Morning Tryst Site

He laughed, a real, unguarded sound. And as he rolled out of bed to find the coffee, Gianna pulled the sheet up to her chin and watched him go.

He lifted her then, her legs wrapping around his waist, and carried her back toward the tangled sheets. The sun climbed higher, spilling across the bed as he lowered her down. x art gianna morning tryst

“Stay,” he said. It wasn’t a question. He laughed, a real, unguarded sound

She didn’t move. Not yet. She just listened to the slow, even breathing of the man beside her—the artist who had talked to her for three hours last night about the way light broke against a wave. He had called her his “morning muse.” The sun climbed higher, spilling across the bed

The first thing Gianna became aware of was the warmth. It pooled through the sheer linen curtains, turning the white sheets into a river of liquid gold. The second thing was the weight of an arm draped across her waist, possessive even in sleep.

“Did you get it right?”