Myra felt sore all over; her thighs stung the next morning as she woke up and felt the side of the bed partly warm.
But she still felt craggy, hissing from the harsh soreness between her legs before she recollected the memories of last night.
How Draven had savagely claimed her and taken her virginity and how cruel he was after she got it—he wanted to show her there could be nothing between them, but why was he writing it so much?
”Agh…” she groaned, pushing herself into the heated tub, washing off the juices from last night, but the bath could do so much to help the soreness that followed, especially after she cleared the mist from the mirror.
She lets out a gasp at the horrid sight of small purplish-red hickeys littered on her skin, a very clear sign for any male to back off.
“Freak
