The following evening was a torment of anticipation. Every shadow seemed to hold Leo’s silhouette, every creak of the old house, his presence. My pussy throbbed with a dull, constant ache, a phantom limb craving his touch. I wore a loose nightgown, but no underwear, hoping to quell the desperate sensitivity between my legs, yet secretly welcoming the feeling of freedom.

The back door creaked open just after midnight. He moved with silent grace, appearing in my living room like a shadow given form. He didn't need to knock. He knew he was welcome. His gaze, even in the dim light, was piercing, consuming.

"Evelyn," he murmured, his voice a...