(Danica )
The thin wall between our rooms had never felt more like a lie.
I lay awake again, staring at the ceiling, the faint glow of moonlight cutting through the blinds like silver blades. My ribs still ached with every breath, the bruises from Kane’s hits a constant, dull throb that refused to let me forget. But the deeper ache came from the man sleeping inches away — the way he had held me in the laundry room, the half-plunge of his c**k sliding along my wetness without pushing inside, the raw restraint in every groan against my neck. I could still feel the heat of him, the way his hands had trembled while staying so careful with my injuries.
Sleep wouldn’t come. Not when every memory of his touch made my body burn.
A soft knock sounded on my door — barely audible, but I knew it w
