The next three days felt like sweet torture. Vicky couldn’t focus on work. Every time she sat at her desk, her mind went straight to Luke’s mouth on her p***y, the way his fingers had filled her, and how good his c**k had tasted sliding down her throat. She kept checking her phone, hoping for a message. Nothing.
Then, on the third night, it started raining hard. Thunder rolled across the sky. Vicky was lying in bed wearing only a thin silk robe, unable to sleep, when she heard a soft knock at her back door.
Her heart jumped. She knew it was him.
She opened the door without turning on the light. Luke stood there in the rain, shirt soaked and clinging to his chest, dark hair dripping. His eyes burned into hers.
No hello. No small talk.
He stepped inside, kicked the door shut, and pushed
