Chapter Eleven
Andrea’s POV
I wake up slowly, the kind of slow where my brain is still half-asleep but my body is already screaming at me.
Everything aches.
My body feels like it has been through a very polite war, sore in places I did not know could ache, heavy in the best and worst ways. The sheet clings to my skin, cool and expensive, and when I shift my legs, a sharp reminder shoots between my thighs.
Oh God.
It was not a dream. Tristan Hale really did f**k me twice this morning, once on the dining table like I was dessert, then again in this bed where he made me ride him until I forgot my own name.
My cheeks heat just thinking about it. I was not graceful. I was not smooth. I was just… me. Clumsy, eager, a little desperate. And he still looked at me like I was the only thing
