He caged me. Pinned me to the floor. Made me come so hard I saw white, and the shitty part is… I’d do it again. In a heartbeat, but I know men like him; he doesn’t repeat. He doesn’t do soft. He doesn’t dofeelings.
He fucks hard and walks away, and in this case,Iwalked first. I saw the blood when I stood up, and I didn’t want him to see it. Didn’t want to ruin the moment. I knew what it was. He didn’t. That’s the power I kept.
As I rinse off, I notice the marks, faint bruises blooming on my inner thighs and hips. A little ache in the pit of my stomach where he pressed down and told me he couldfeel himselfinside me.
Oh my God.
I step out of the tub, dry off, and climb into bed completely naked. My body feels sore; my lower belly is tender. My thighs still tremble, and all I can think about is his voice, the filth he whispered, the rules he gave, the weight of him holding me down like I was his to ruin.
Then there’s his dick.
Jesus. That thing should come with a warning label.
It was massive, thick, and heavy, way bigger than what I expected. I’m a virgin, but I’veseendicks. I’ve received unsolicited proof. What Flynn’s packing? That wasn’t average. That was… architectural.
I stare up at the ceiling, biting my lip, and I can’t stop the smile from spreading across my face.
Autumn.
The sweet, quiet girl who never took risks. Who never did anything dangerous or wild or impulsive just gave her virginity to a man she barely knows…without him even knowing.
I feel the light pushing through the blinds, warm and intrusive across my face. Turning over, I blink toward the clock.
Shit. It’s past eleven in the morning.
I sit up too fast, and the sudden motion sends a wave of dizziness through my head. A slow, dull ache throbs between my legs, dragging my thoughts straight back to last night. I press my thighs together and wince.
How the hell am I still sore? I thought it would fade after a few hours.
My phone is still lying where I left it, on top of the dresser, powered off. I grab it and switch it on.
Two missed calls and one voicemail. It’s Flynn’s number.
Viviana gave it to me the night before the shoot, just in case I needed to contact him directly. I guess she gave him mine, too. Damn it, that wasn’t in the plan.
I press play.
“Autumn, are you okay? Call me back.”
His voice is rough, urgent, almost worried.
Did he see the blood?
Does he know?
I chew the inside of my cheek, heart suddenly hammering. I did bleed more than I expected, but I got up fast. Was it on him?
Oh my God. Did I leave blood on his dick?
A hot rush of embarrassment crawls up my spine. I groan, dragging a hand down my face. Last night, I was too full of rage and adrenaline to think. The stalker showing up again had me spinning, so pissed off that everything felt easy. Obvious.
Now?
Now reality is creeping back in like a hangover.
I don’t regret it, not even close, but it’s Flynn Brady.
He’s Viviana’s friend. Declan Callaghan’s best friend. The kind of man who’s hard to avoid.
