The door opened again at 11:47.
I hadn’t locked it. I’d tried. My hand had hovered over the knob twice after they left, fingers shaking, cunt still swollen and leaking Julian’s c*m onto the inside of my thighs. Every time I reached for it I heard Mateo’s voice in my head—You don’t lock this door again—and my hand dropped. Now I was on my stomach, face turned toward the wall, tank top still shoved up, bare from the waist down. The sheets under my hips were damp. I’d been clenching around nothing for hours, trying not to touch myself, failing anyway. Two fingers were buried inside me when the hinges creaked.
Julian’s low voice cut through the dark. “She’s still wet.”
The mattress dipped on both sides. Mateo’s bigger hand slid up the back of my thigh, pushed my knee out, and exposed everyt
