Andrea woke to sunlight spilling across the sheets and the faint ache between her thighs. For one sleepy second she forgot where she was and just lay there, breathing slow, feeling the faint throb of every place Henry had touched her last night.
Then she shifted, and the soreness bloomed–a delicious, secret reminder of Henry’s mouth, his fingers and the way she had shattered under him last night.
She sat up slowly, heart already racing. The oversized T-shirt she’d slept in rode up, exposing the dark purple marks scattered across her breasts and the tender spots on her neck. She touched one with trembling fingertips. The skin was still warm, slightly swollen. A visible claim.
She stepped out of bed, threw the bed covers off and quickly moved to the mirror. Her reflection in the mirror a
