Daisy
The rain hadn’t stopped; if anything, it sounded louder now, like the sky was trying to drown out whatever stupid thing we were about to do next.
Norman’s forehead stayed pressed to mine for a long beat, our breaths mingling—hot, uneven, tasting of s*x and whisky and bad decisions. His c**k in his pants was still rock-hard against my thigh, slick from my come and his own stained pre-c*m, twitching every time my hips shifted even a fraction.
I should have pushed him away. Should have said the words again: We’re exes. This is over. But my body wasn’t listening. My n*****s were tight peaks scraping against his chest hair, my c**t throbbing in time with my heart beat, and the deep, empty ache inside me was screaming for more.
He didn’t rush. Instead, his hands slid up my sides slowly
