Delilah’s POV
Three days had passed since I dropped to my knees in Zedd’s office and took his c**k into my mouth, and I was completely unraveling.
I couldn’t stop thinking about it. The heaviness of him on my tongue. The way his fingers had tightened almost painfully in my hair. The raw, broken groan he made when he spilled down my throat. Every night since then I had touched myself — sometimes twice — imagining it was his hands, his voice, his thick c**k stretching me open. I had come whispering his name like a w***e in the dark. The shame that followed had nearly choked me, but the need never faded. It only grew worse.
I had even texted him once. A single, stupid message asking if he was okay.
There was no reply.
The silence stung more than I wanted to admit. Maybe the blowjob had
