I woke the next morning with a dull ache in places I didn’t even know could ache. My body still remembered every inch of him, every stroke, every whispered word, and the memory alone made my pulse quicken. The apartment was quiet again, but the heat between my thighs reminded me that last night wasn’t some fever dream—it was real, vivid, and far from over.
I hadn’t even moved when I felt him behind me, arms wrapping around my waist, pulling me back into his chest. His mouth pressed against my shoulder, teeth nipping lightly, sending shivers down my spine.
“You taste like fire,” he murmured, and my knees went weak.
I could feel him hard against my lower back, already teasing, already demanding, and I knew I wouldn’t survive the day without giving in. My hands moved to his, fingers wrappi
