-Cora-
That asshole didn’t come back to our room. He didn’t come for dinner. He didn’t show up after. I just put Peter to bed for the night, and he’s still not here. Prick.
I go into the bathroom and fill the tub with warm water before sinking in. I hate this. I hate that I’m angry. I hate that he’s angry. I hate that he’s afraid to touch me. I hate that our bond is just a whisper between us. He won’t touch me now, and I don’t know how much longer I can take it. My body longs for him, and so does the bond.
I slide my hand down my body, running a finger through my folds to circle my c**t. I whimper at the contact. It’s contact I’ve so desperately craved, though not from whom I want it. I know, I almost died, but he’s treating me like I’m made of glass.
I wiggle to give mys
