Michael Reese.
I thought I only rested my eyes, but apparently, I’ve slept for hours from what it seemed. I found myself in an unfamiliar room, on a large bed that had Hayden’s scent all over it. The said scent didn’t help with my current shameful state. I couldn’t help but roll on the bed, burying my face in the pillow.
I felt like screaming, yet I didn’t have the energy to open my lips. I’ve experienced near-death situations before. Heck, I’ve died before, but the feeling I was experiencing right now was on another level of pain and despair. The pleasure was unbearable, and the smallest friction had me rolling my head back, arching my body, feeling my deepest desire tingling and craving to get touched.
It was embarrassing, to say the least, writhing on the bed while burying my face
