The next morning, I woke up aching in the most sinful way. Damien’s cum had dried on my thighs overnight, a sticky reminder of how thoroughly he had ruined me in that closet. Every time I moved, I felt the soreness between my legs, the delicious stretch from his thick cock and the way he had fucked me like a man possessed.

I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Even as I showered, my fingers kept drifting between my thighs, replaying the way his voice had sounded when he growled filthy things in my ear. The way he had devoured my pussy like he owned it. The way he had filled...