20
Rue
The last two nights, I have dreamed of nothing but Dryas. The look in his eyes when he pulls those sounds of pleasure from my chest. The way he holds me close enough that his breath fans across my cheek, flushed scarlet with longing. His hands, seeking the parts of me that I didn’t know were so infinitely needy.
My lower body throbs at the very thought of his hands touching me, caressing me. Dryas didn’t seem confused about what was happening when he touched me.
If anything, he seemed self-assured.
Doing the math, that reaction means that he has made other women feel just like this. On one hand, I should feel relieved. If he’s made other women feel like this, make those noises, then I’m not unusual.
Another small part of me is angry, though. At him, for having done all of this
