Eve
I woke up slowly, sunlight filtering through the half-open blinds, painting soft stripes across the ceiling. My body felt heavy in the best way—sore, satisfied, every muscle remembering exactly how thoroughly he’d taken me apart last night.
To be honest, I waited for the regret to hit. The shame. The self-loathing for crawling back to him, for begging him to sleep with me, for letting it happen again.
But it didn’t come.
Instead, flashes of memory flickered behind my eyes: his mouth on me, my leg over his shoulder, the way he’d flipped me and taken me from behind until I couldn’t think straight. My skin prickled, heat rushing to my face and lower. I pressed my thighs together under the sheet, biting my lip against the fresh ache of want.
I turned my head, expecting to find him bes
