The bathroom door clicked shut behind him with a soft finality that felt louder than any slam.
I stayed exactly where I was, back pressed to the cold stone, one leg still hooked awkwardly high, fingers frozen mid-circle over my c**t like the command had short-circuited every nerve. Water kept pounding down, turning my skin pink and sensitive, but the heat between my thighs had nothing to do with the shower anymore.
My chest heaved with rage and shame. That sick, pulsing want I couldn’t strangle no matter how hard I tried. I hated him but I hated myself more.
Slowly because every movement felt like surrender, I lowered my leg. My hand fell away. The sudden absence of pressure made the ache worse, sharper, like my body was punishing me for stopping. I turned off the water with a vicious t
