Xavier was asleep.
Out cold.
His arm was still slung across her waist, heavy and possessive, like even in sleep, he refused to let her go. His c*m was still dripping from her thighs, staining the sheets. Her body ached in places she didn’t know could ache. Her n*****s were tender. Her p***y was ruined. Her throat scratched from moaning, screaming, choking.
And yet…her eyes stayed open.
She stared at the ceiling, silent.
Not from peace.
But chaos.
She should’ve told him.
She should’ve.
She should’ve told Xavier that Elijah walked in on her. That he saw her naked. That his eyes burned through her skin like they had every right to.
But she hadn’t.
Why?
Because she wanted it.
God help her, she wanted it.
She wanted Elijah’s eyes on her. She wanted the hunger. The tension. The for
