CLAIRE.

Marcus’s voice carried clearly through the bedroom door.

“Elena? I saw the light on upstairs. Is Claire still awake?”

I lay frozen on the bed, Elena’s fingers still tasting of my cunt, my tank top shoved up under my breasts, legs parted, every nerve ending screaming. The almost-orgasm throbbed between my thighs like an open wound. I could hear her soft footsteps in the hallway, the quiet rustle of the robe being tied.

“She’s resting,” Elena answered, voice perfectly calm. “The last few days have been hard on her. Come downstairs. We’ll talk in the kitchen.”

Their voices faded as they moved away. I stayed exactly where she had...