RYAN POV
Breakfast was hell.
I could barely sit still. Every shift on the chair sent a dull throb st the back of my throat, reminder of last night, of Kiera’s thick c**k stretching my throat until I gagged and cried, of the taste of her c*m still lingering on my tongue no matter how many times I brushed my teeth. I kept my eyes glued to my plate, pushing scrambled eggs around like they’d personally offended me.
Kiera sat across from me, calm as anything, sipping orange juice, legs crossed under the table. I could feel her stare, hot, heavy, and amused like she was remembering every second of me on my knees, lips stretched around her, moaning like a b***h in heat. I refused to look up. If I did, I’d see that smirk. I’d see her knowing exactly what she’d done to me. And worse, I’d feel my
