The moment he finished, the weight of him was a leaden truth, pressing me into the mattress. I felt the last, hot pulse of his release deep inside me before he collapsed, his sweat-slicked skin glued to mine, his breath a ragged torrent against my neck. I was already floating away, my mind detaching from the sticky reality of my body. The wetness between my legs. The slow, warm trickle of him starting to escape. I stared at the ceiling, at the shadows dancing from the single candle, feeling hollowed out and used. He was the first to move, rolling off me with a grunt. The cool air hit my...