A's

e'd touched-my waist, my ass, my throat-burned like he'd branded me with his hands. The towel hung

wrong

ronger, pulsing in time with my racing heartbeat. This wasn't normal. I'd never felt anything like this befo

ooked at me with such disgust, called me a whore, told me I didn't belong here.

Stop

pen. I'd just gotten he

ime. That look-hungry and hateful all at once-sent another wave of heat through me. When he took a

and my hand flew

hoed in the

, there was no apology in his eyes. Only dark amusement and s

to touch his reddening cheek, his lips curving into

ut, slamming the

dy. The ache inside me hadn't gone away. If anything, it wa

still s

swollen, practically weeping with need. This felt like the heat I'd read about-the o

wolf. I'm use

ng between my legs demanded attention, and I hated myself for it. Hated tha

. But this was different. This was desperate, urgent, almost

n my stomach, fingers trembling as they found the small vibrator I'd hidden i

ce. Just to

itive points. I touched one, rolling it between my fingers, and g

legs and the first touch against

fu

l and my thighs tremble. I bit my lip hard, trying to stay quiet. The wa

I imagined Reed standing outside my door, listening to every gasp, every

rantic rhythm. My other hand cupped my breast, pinching my nippl

t, not squeezing but owning. The bruising hold on my ass, fingers digging in like

God

my pillow at the stretch. It wasn't enough. Not nearly enough. I wanted something bigger, thicker. I want

lit. The dual sensation was overwhelming. My free hand clawed at the sheets, then

hore," his voice e

pussy clench around the vibrator, shouldn't make more wetne

s crossed, eyes dark with lust he refused to act on. Watching me fall apart, desperate for him.

me like a lig

after wave of pleasure crashed through me, my pussy clamping down on the vibra

ache was still there.

at the ceiling. The vibrator slipped out of me, s

ave I

ng about someone who hated me. Someone who'd called me pathetic and told me I didn

y naked body. My skin still burned. Between my l

asm hadn't fixed it. If anything, it had made the hunger wor

I'd drifted off, feverish dreams woke me-hands on my skin, lips on my throat, bodies pressing me into the matt

zed hoodie that hid everything. Maybe if I

airs. Voices drifted from the dining

table with Marcus and Mom. The mo

ared at me with an expression I couldn't read

down," Mom cal

't do

s pinned me in place. My chest ti

ed, backing away. "I'll j

ape their stares. The cool morning air hit my flushed face, bu

d a