Zee.
I woke up the next morning, every muscle sore, my body humming with the remnants of last night.
Between my thighs, I was swollen and tender, so sensitive that even the slightest shift made me aware of it. The soreness throbbed like a memory carved into me, but instead of discomfort, it made me smile.
A slow, lingering smile curved my lips as flashes of last night replayed in my mind — his hands, his mouth, his breathless voice calling my name, the way he broke me down and put me back together in the same heartbeat. It wasn’t just physical — it was consuming, like he’d branded himself into me without even trying.
It was wild. Reckless. Intense. And I loved every second of it.
The pain I felt wasn’t the kind that bothered me. It felt like proof, a reminder. Every faint bruise and
