The rain had turned into a steady downpour by the next morning, drumming against the roof like impatient fingers. Willow Creek felt smaller, the house on Maple Lane even more claustrophobic. The festival was long gone, but the storm we had created inside these walls was only intensifying.
I woke tangled in Elias’s sheets, my n***d body pressed flush against his. His thick c**k was already hard against my a*s, his arm locked around my waist, hand possessively cupping my breast. He wasn’t asleep. His thumb circled my n****e slowly, teasing it into a tight peak while his lips brushed the sensitive spot behind my ear.
“Morning, baby,” he growled low, voice rough with sleep and hunger. “I woke up hard again thinking about how you took me last night. How your tight little p***y clenched around
