The first thing Eleanor Voss feels is the deep, unrelenting ache that pulses through her body like a second heartbeat. Her thighs tremble with a weakness she can't quite control, her lower back throbs from the arch of her spine in ways she never knew it could, and between her legs, her p***y feels swollen shut, tender and raw.
Every shallow breath sends a fresh wave of soreness radiating outward,a reminder of the night before. She shifts slightly under the sheets, and the friction of the fabric against her skin makes her wince.
She's still stretched from the memory of a c**k that felt twice the size it had any right to be, thick and unyielding, pushing her to edges she hadn't known existed.
Beside her, Rhys sleeps on his stomach, his massive frame taking up most of the king-sized bed.
