Amelia
My burns, bruises, and blisters are still tender the next day when I go to the gym. The blisters on my hands are too raw to do any weight training, so mostly I just run on the treadmill.
My feet hit the rotating surface over and over, a steady rhythm against last night’s moments replaying in my mind.
Prince Owen’s breath on my face. The slow, languid way he pulled his hand from just beneath my underwear all the way back to my knee, his fingertips lightly tracing my skin along the entire path, leaving goosebumps over my burn. The warmth that spread between my legs as I stared longingly at his mouth, my pulse thundering in my ears.
I was just about to lean in when he stood so suddenly that he almost knocked his head against mine on his way up. He cleared his throat, then tapped a
