Liam lay on the couch staring at the ceiling. The storm had calmed a little, but the power was still out. Every few minutes, lightning flashed and lit up the living room. He could not stop thinking about Sophia, the softness of her breasts in his hands, the way she moaned when he sucked her n*****s, how wet she had been against his fingers.
His c**k was still hard and aching. He adjusted himself in his jeans for the tenth time, feeling guilty as hell.
Upstairs, the floor creaked. Sophia was moving around. A few minutes later, she came down the stairs holding a candle. She was wearing the same thin tank top and shorts. Her hair was messy, and her n*****s were still visibly hard.
“I can’t sleep,” she said softly, standing near the couch. “Every time I close my eyes, I keep thinking about
