**Elena’s POV**

I was obsessed.

All day I moved through the world like a ghost—went to the grocery store, folded laundry, answered texts from friends—but my mind was stuck on the squat rack, on Marcus’s mouth between my legs, on the way he’d pulled back right when I was about to break. My clit stayed swollen and sensitive, rubbing against the seam of my shorts every time I sat down or crossed my legs. I caught myself squeezing my thighs together at stoplights, biting my lip hard enough to leave marks.

I hated how much I wanted to go back.

I told myself I wouldn’t.

I told myself I’d cancel...