Taryn
I couldn’t eat.
I couldn’t sleep.
All I could think about was him.
Caz.
His scent. His skin. The way his hands felt on my hips, the stretch of him inside me, the way his voice dropped when he told me I was his.
I was raw—inside and out. My thighs trembled just walking from the bed to the bathroom. My lips were swollen, my voice gone hoarse from moaning, from begging. I’d cried out so many times the night before I wasn’t sure I had anything left.
But I still wanted him.
I still needed him.
“Baby,” Caz said softly, brushing the sweat-matted hair from my forehead. “You have to drink something. Just a little. You’re gonna get dehydrated if you don’t—”
“Don’t care,” I muttered, my fingers fisting the front of his shirt. “Just touch me.”
His jaw clenched. He kissed my temple.
“
