I was shaking now, the afterglow curdling into nausea and panic. “Get out. Right now.”
He didn’t move. Just pulled the phone back out, tapped the screen, and turned it toward me. The video played on mute—me on all fours in the low light, back arched, mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure, his hand fisted in my hair, hips snapping against my ass. My face was unmistakable. My moans, even silent, looked filthy. His c**k disappearing inside me over and over. The way I’d pushed back for more.
Bile rose in my throat. “Delete that. Delete it.”
“Already backed it up,” he said, voice calm. “Cloud, email, the works. Timestamped and everything.”
I pressed my forehead to my knees, trying not to throw up. I could still feel him inside me. Still smell him on my skin. Still taste the echo of my o
