I barely slept that night. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt Mason’s thick fingers stretching me open, heard his low, filthy voice calling me a desperate little slut. My pussy stayed wet and aching, constantly leaking onto the expensive sheets. I changed my panties twice before dawn.

The next morning, I tried to act normal. I wore a modest white sundress that reached mid-thigh, hoping it would help me feel more in control. But the moment I stepped into the kitchen for breakfast, Mason was already there. Shirtless.

Sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips, showing the deep V-lines that led to his massive bulge. He looked up...