The morning sunlight spilled across my bed, warm and golden, brushing against my flushed skin. I groaned softly, my body aching in ways that had nothing to do with sleep. Last night’s memory lingered, thick and heavy: Richard’s lips teasing every curve, his tongue mapping my sensitive peaks, the way he’d sucked me until I shivered and gasped, barely holding back a scream of need. My fingers itched to follow that memory, brushing against the swell of my n*****s, hard and aching, my clit pulsing with an unrelenting insistence.
A soft moan escaped me before I could stop it, low and desperate, as if my own body demanded satisfaction. I closed my eyes, heart hammering, imagining Richard’s eyes on me—dark, commanding, possessive. And then the thought of Caleb hit me like fire through my veins.
