Chapter 66

Lyra

I lay there on the bed, half-draped like a girl who had just been struck by a category five orgasmic hurricane, my legs still twitching every single time I tried to take a deep breath, and he just stood there watching me.

Not helping.

Not speaking.

Just watching me like I was the greatest thing he’d ever destroyed.

Like he was proud of the mess he made.

Like he hadn’t just made me forget my own birthday, my own address, and maybe even my own fucking name.

His mouth was still glistening with me, his lips shiny and swollen from all the sucking and licking and sin he’d just committed between my legs, and his eyes? Oh my God, his eyes sparkled like he knew exactly how owned I was. Like he didn’t need to say a word because I already belonged to him and we both knew it.

And what made it worse—what made me want to slap him and ride him at the same time—was the fact that I loved it.

I hated that I loved it, but I did.

“