X Art: Gianna Morning Tryst

She leaned against the stone balustrade, watching the sea turn from slate to sapphire. The scent of jasmine and salt clung to the air.

She smiled, a secret, slow curve of her lips. She heard the sheets rustle, the soft pad of his feet on the cool floor. Then his hands were on her shoulders, sliding down her arms, wrapping around her from behind. His chest was warm against her back. His lips found the spot just below her ear.

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. x art gianna morning tryst

“Stay,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

He cupped her face. “This is better.” She leaned against the stone balustrade, watching the

“You’re cruel, you know.”

She slipped out from under his arm. The air was cool on her bare skin. She didn’t reach for the silk robe draped over the chair. Instead, she walked to the open French doors, the morning breeze making her shiver as it kissed the curve of her spine, the back of her thighs. She heard the sheets rustle, the soft pad

Later, much later, they lay in a tangle of sweat-soaked sheets. He was drawing lazy circles on her stomach. She was staring at the ceiling, a small, satisfied smile on her face.