Emily's POV
I thought the shower was the worst of it.
I was wrong.
The shower had been private—our secret, locked behind steam and thin plastic. Just him and me, his c**k splitting me open while our parents cooked dinner downstairs. I could still feel the ghost of his c*m leaking out of me hours later, sticky between my thighs every time I shifted in my chair at dinner. Mom asked why I was so quiet. I mumbled something about homework. Ethan just smirked across the table like he could taste me on his tongue.
But day three?
Day three he took me out of the house.
He didn’t ask.
Just knocked on my door at seven, tossed a black silk blindfold onto my bed, and said, “Put it on in the car. We’re leaving in five.”
I stared at the fabric. Soft. Expensive. Probably one of his ex’s. T
