I couldn’t stop shaking. Even after Zane left my room last night, my body refused to calm down. My p***y was still swollen and throbbing, leaking slowly onto my thighs as I lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his cruel grey eyes and felt his thick fingers stretching me open while he called me a filthy slut.
I came two more times that night just from the memory. The next morning, I tried to avoid him like the plague. I woke up early, got dressed in my most modest outfit, a loose sweater and long skirt and rushed downstairs hoping to leave for campus before he woke up.
But Zane was already in the kitchen. Shirtless. Grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips. The outline of his massive morning wood clearly visible. He looked like sin incarnate.
"Running away
