The Morning After

GIOVANNI’S POV I woke up hard and frustrated, staring at the ceiling while my body reminded me exactly what had happened last night outside that courtyard. Arya's lips on mine and the small sounds she had made when I had kissed her neck. The way she had pulled me closer like she couldn't get enough. My hand moved down automatically, palming myself through my boxers, but I stopped. This was pathetic. I was Giovanni De Santis, for fuck's sake. I didn't lose control over a woman or wake up hard from memories of a kiss. Except apparently I did. "Cazzo," I muttered, throwing off the covers and stalking to my private gym. If I couldn't think my way out of this, maybe I could exhaust my body into submission. I worked out harder than I had in months and finishing with an intense run on the treadmill that left me drenched in sweat and gasping for air. It didn't help. If anything, it made it worse. Every movement reminded me of how her body had felt pressed against mine, and how perf