Chapter 49

Lyra

I didn’t even sit up.

Didn’t bother wiping the cum off my thighs or pulling the sheets over my wrecked, twitchy, utterly defiled body.

I just held the phone to my ear with one hand, stared at the ceiling like I was God’s favorite disappointment, and let a smile slowly curl across my face.

“Oh my God,” I whispered sweetly into the receiver. “Marcus. What a surprise. Did your dick finally get signal?”

He stuttered.

Actually stuttered.

Typical.

“I—uh—I just wanted to check on you. See how you were doing.”

“How I’m doing?” I purred, voice sticky with fake innocence. “That’s so sweet of you. Really. Because the last time we spoke, you called me useless. Remember that? Because I wouldn’t let you stick your pinkie-dick in me in the backseat of your mum’s Corolla after youth service?”

Silence.

Oh, I was just getting started.

“Well, guess what, baby,” I cooed, flipping onto my back with a wince because my poo