Lilieth
A strong, pungent smell rips me out of my sleep.
I open my eyes and the first person I see is Deo. She's holding a glass jar in her hand, filled about halfway with herbs. Screwing it shut, she tells me, "It's great for waking people up."
"I can tell," I claim, rubbing my nose.
Trying to sit up proves to be a mistake because a sharp pain on the spot that connects my neck to my shoulder makes me yelp. I start to place my hand over me, but Deo grabs my wrists quickly, stopping me.
"Don't touch it," she claims. "We'll have to disinfect it with warm water."
That's when I remember it. The marking. The way his teeth sunk into me with a force that caught me off guard. Then, the memory of his c**k swelling inside of me and practically ripping me open invades my mind.
And the sore
