Hailey
At night, sleep didn't find me. Frustration cocooned me instead.
And God, I couldn't stop thinking about Damien. The feel of his lips on mine, his tongue claiming my mouth, the possessiveness of his touch searing my skin. His breath against my p***y, his tongue on my c**t, his hand gripping my hair, and, of course, his c**k down my throat.
It was infuriating-how little self-respect I seemed to have when it came to him. How could I still want him when he was off f*****g someone else's mouth? Especially after everything... after I'd bared my soul to him, shared the darkest, most fragile parts of me.
How could he?
I'd asked myself that question a thousand times today, and every time, the answer was the same: because he didn't give a f**k. Simple as that.
Even Isla agreed. I coul
