Phil’s POV
Oh my God.
He was fast asleep on the floor, curled up in the spare comforter and I was left lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to absorb what just happened. What happened?
“Feel good?”
I could still hear his voice in my ear, his hand over mine, making me grip myself roughly. I . . . thought I was going to die. It felt . . . too intense. I’d slumped forward, pressing my forehead to his shoulder and he’d chuckled. So amused with me.
“Cute.”
I’d tried not to make any noise, to inch backward, out of his grip, but his other hand caught the back of my knee, gripping me so firmly I was sure he’d bruised me. I think I . . . told him to wait a couple times but he didn’t. And when I finally shook soundlessly against him, he kissed my shoul
