Her POV
I had never seen Sean Davies beg.
Not the way I wanted him to. Not the way he’d made me.
But that night, I watched the devil squirm.
It was quiet. Late. The apartment smelled like cedar and heat, and a thunderstorm whispered against the windows. Rain streaked the glass in long, glistening lines, like tears the sky couldn’t hold.
Sean sat on the edge of the bed, hands clenched, chest rising and falling. Still shirtless. Still hard. His c**k strained against the waistband of his sweats, and I saw the pulse in his neck jumping.
I was the reason for it.
And I intended to drag it out until he forgot his own name.
I padded barefoot across the room, completely bare beneath one of his button-downs—only two buttons fastened, enough to tease, not enough to cover. I stopped just in f
