Chapter 17. The Set Up

Elena’s POV

I woke up gasping, my body arched off the mattress, every nerve ending screaming.

Heat flooded my veins. The sheets were tangled around my legs, damp with sweat. My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I could feel it in my throat, in my temples, between my thighs.

The ceiling above me was familiar. The room was dark. Silent.

Empty.

I squeezed my eyes shut, shame and arousal warring in my chest. It was just a dream. Just my traitorous imagination running wild. Eric hadn’t kissed me. Hadn’t touched me. Hadn’t tasted every inch of my skin like I was something precious.

But my body didn’t know the difference.

God, Elena. What is wrong with you?

I pressed my palm against my burning forehead. You’re the one who demanded no sexual relations. You’re the one who wrote it into the contract. And now you’re lying in his bed—his guest bed, in his home—fantasizing about him doing exactly the things you said you didn’t want?