Emily
My body ached in the best kind of way—the deep, delicious throb of muscles that had been stretched, claimed, and wrecked for hours. Every bruise on my hips, every bite mark hidden under my collar, every slick reminder between my thighs pulsed like a secret trophy. I smiled against the subway window, forehead pressed to the cool glass, watching my reflection smear through neon and streetlights.
I am a mess. A gloriously ruined, thoroughly f****d, happy mess. For once in my goddamn life.
The smile clung to my lips all the way up the stairs, down the cracked hallway, until I reached my floor.
My door was ajar.
Just a few inches. A black slit of darkness where it should have been locked tight.
No.
My stomach plummeted. The happy ache in my body turned to ice. I stood
