CHAPTER FIVE
Clara spent the entirely Friday morning attempting to distract herself from the persistent ache throbbing between her thighs.
The transformative weekend at the lake house lingered in her body like a sweet, forbidden secret and the s*x after the lake house.
With every step she took across the kitchen floor, every subtle shift as she sat at the table, she felt him—Uncle Ethan—etched into her muscles, her skin, her very core.
The lingering soreness was not painful; it was delicious, a constant, intimate reminder that he had taken her completely, claimed her virginity, filled her bare, and spilled his seed deep inside her time and again.
The thought alone made her cheeks flush and her pulse quicken.
She was standing at the counter, waiting for the coffee to brew, when her
