Day thirteen brought a break in the heavy rain, leaving Willow Creek glistening under pale sunlight that felt almost cruel against the tension inside the house. Amina’s last text still lingered unanswered on Elias’s phone, a fragile thread of connection that both comforted and tormented.
I woke slowly, Elias’s body molded tightly to mine, his arm locked across my chest and one leg hooked over mine in that constant, possessive hold. His morning hardness pressed hot against my a*s, and his hand was already between my thighs, fingers stroking through the slick evidence of last night.
“Morning, baby,” he murmured, voice low and needy. He lifted my leg and slid inside me in one deep thrust, both of us sighing at the stretch. He f****d me with slow, deliberate rolls of his hips, savoring every
