I stretch, and my hand connects with something hard yet warm.
I trail my hand further down until I hear a yawn.
Oh.
I slept with Blake.
A hand reaches out, tugging me close to said body, and a hardness presses against me as fingers move between my legs.
I can’t even open my eyes.
This doesn’t count if I don’t open my eyes.
Lips touch my shoulder, and I arch back, allowing access to my most intimate area.
I’m still sore from last night, but when Blake enters me, I suck in a breath, tingling from the pleasure and pain.
Blake drags me against him, and I turn my treacherous mouth to him, our tongues seeking one another urgently.
This is wrong.
But my body isn’t having any of that.
Blake brings me to orgasm twice before he empties himself into me, moving me onto my back so he can gaze at me with his stunning deep blue eyes.
“Hello, Danielle.”
I swallow, my fingers playing with the hairs on his forearms, pursing my swollen lips together. “Hi.”
Blake searches my eyes, dipping his head down to my ear. “You look like you’re okay with waking up in my bed.”
His gaze drags over me, and I tilt his chin, so he’s looking directly into my eyes.
Be strong.
“This was fun, but it ends here,” I state, trying to sound like I mean it.
Blake exhales his disappointment, kissing me on the forehead. “Fine.”
He moves back, striding to the ensuite at the side of his room. He steps into the shower without another word, and I sit up, feeling his cum leaking out of me.
Oh, God.
My head pounds as I drag myself to the edge of the mammoth bed, glancing around for my clothes.
Nothing.
I have a flashback of us fucking on the floor downstairs, and I grimace.
Getting drunk with Blake James wasnota good idea.
I can’t blame the alcohol—I’d just done it sober.
I dash into my room, leaning against the door as my heart thuds in my chest.
My bed is unslept in, paperwork still all over the floor from my rage last night.
I head to my ensuite, fingers trembling as I run the shower.
