Maeve
More memories flooded my mind. Blake. Lust. Friction on his thighs. With a groan, I threw my arm over my eyes as my cheeks heated out of sheer embarrassment. He could’ve used my vulnerability. Instead he put me under a cold shower. I was mortified at my behavior. How would I face him again? “Why would anyone drug me?” I asked.
Every detail of my encounter with Blake the night before returned as soon as my lips touched the herbal tea. His taste, his warm breath, his heated gaze, the hardness of his member and the way my body molded into his seamlessly like I was made for him. My breath turned shaky and I closed my eyes, groaning. Along with those memories, I also remembered the brutality of his words afterwards. He had kidnapped me. I was a means to an end.
Hatred for him returned
