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Annie
The morning light pours softly through the gauzy curtains of my bedroom, the kind of warm, golden light that normally coaxes a smile to my face. But today, it only makes me feel disoriented. My eyes flutter open, and it takes a moment to remember where I am.
Then it hits me—last night.
I sit up abruptly, clutching the blanket to my chest. My gaze darts around the room, but it’s empty. Of course, he’s gone. The space beside me is cold, the sheet untouched, as though he never spent the night at all.
My stomach churns with a mix of emotions I can’t quite pin down, and my entire body flushes as the memories from last night come back to me in flashes.
Last night, Cole had been… I don’t even have the words. Controlling. Demanding.
And I’d liked it.
No, I’d loved it.
The thought twists something deep inside me, and I feel a bit queasy. Remembering exactlywhat had happened between us and the way that I… I let out a low groan and close my eyes, sinking back into the pillows.
All I want to do is pull the covers over my head and not move for hours. Of course, Robbie will come looking for me soon if I do that.
A sharp jolt of panic rushes through me.Robbie!
I sit up quickly, toss the covers aside, and scramble to grab my phone. I’ve overslept. Shit, shit, shit! Why didn’t my alarm go off?
I’m ready to throw the covers back and rush to get ready when I see a message from Ellis:
I’ll be taking Robbie to school this morning. You have the morning off.
Relief washes over me, but it’s short-lived.
I have the morning off? Why?
Is it because of… what happened last night?
I flush, the though mortifying me. Did Ellis know?
We hadn’t exactly been quiet.
Did Cole give me the morning off because I slept with him? Is that what he thinks this is?
Suddenly, even though I have the morning off, the thought of lying here doing nothing feels unbearable. I toss the blanket aside and swing my legs over the edge of the bed—only to wince as a dull ache radiates between my legs and through my thighs, shocking me.
Oh. Right.
My cheeks flame as I use my hands to slowly stand, my movements careful and deliberate. Every step is a reminder of what happened, of how his hands gripped my hips, how his voice growled in my ear, how he made me feel things I’d never felt before.
Made me beg.
No. No. Don’t think about it.
I make my way to the bathroom, and the bright, sterile light only amplifies my discomfort. I avoid my reflection at first, busying myself with brushing my teeth, but as I rinse my mouth, my eyes catch my own in the mirror.
I look... different. Is it because I lost my virginity? That’s silly.
Flushed, maybe. Embarrassed.
The more I look at myself and remember—the way he kneaded my breasts, tortured my nipples with his lips and tongue. And did the same between my legs. Over and over and over again.
I can’t stop them this time. The memories come rushing back, unbidden. The way he’d controlled my body, how easily I’d submitted to his every command. The way he’d called me a good girl, and how it had made my stomach flutter in the most sinful way.