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A soft gasp escapes her as I pull out, but she doesn't open her eyes, just mumbles something.
"What was that?" I prompt.
"Was I a good girl?" she whispers sleepily.
My heart swells.
"Yes, Annie. A very good girl," I say and press a kiss to her lips. "The verybestgirl."
She hums in contentment and drifts off, snuggling into the pillow.
I'm tempted to join her, but instead, I force myself out of bed and get cleaned up. In the bathroom, there are some washcloths and towels, so I wet a cloth and go back into the room to wipe her clean.
She barely stirs. When she's as clean as I can get her without waking her up, I toss the cloth into the sink, finish cleaning myself up, and walk back intothe room.
She's sound asleep, and her face is peaceful, her lips curled into a soft smile.
I don't have the heart to wake her, not after what she gave me.
I hesitate for a moment and then climb into the bed and curl my body around hers.
I lean down and press a kiss to her head and cover her with the blanket.
I'm exhausted. It's been a long, crazy day.
As tired as I am, it takes me a long time to drift off, though, my brain refusing to settle, my thoughts racing.
This is not what I planned, and this is not what was supposed to happen.
But it did, and there's no going back.
And I can't seem to make myself regret it.
***
The early morning light filters through the sheer curtains in Annie’s bedroom, bathing the space in a soft, golden glow. I stir awake slowly, the first thing registering in my mind being the warmth pressed against me. Her.
Annie.
She’s curled up next to me, her light hair fanning out over the pillow. Her features are relaxed, peaceful in a way I’ve rarely seen them, and her soft, steady breathing fills the quiet room. The events of last night hit me like a freight train, and I exhale slowly, careful not to disturb her.
I can still feel the weight of her in my arms, the way she trembled under my touch, and the way she trusted me. It wasn’t just sex. It was her first time. The gravity of that fact has been sitting in my chest like a lead weight ever since.
I glance at her again, noting the faint blush still on her cheeks even in sleep. She looks utterly exhausted, and I can’t blame her. She fell asleep almost immediately after—too quickly for me to do anything more than hold her, which is something I regret.
Someone like Annie, someone new to this—the controlling and demanding nature of me in bed—should’ve been cared for afterward.
It’s not just about the physical—it’s about grounding her, making her feel safe. Instead, I’d done almost nothing as she drifted off, not wanting to disturb her.
I know I should’ve done more, but she’d seemed content, sure, but I also know that can change in a heartbeat.
Carefully, I shift to sit up. I pick up her phone on the nightstand and silence her alarm due to go off in half an hour.
The last thing she needs right now is to be jolted awake by that shrill noise. Once it’s done, I linger for a moment,my eyes sweeping over her sleeping form. Her lips are slightly parted, and her lashes cast soft shadows on her cheeks.
She looks... angelic. Vulnerable in a way that makes something deep inside me twist.
I need to get out of here before I do something stupid, like crawl back into bed and stay there all morning.