Villain Ch 1737. Wrecked
The room smelled like sweat, like skin, like laughter still caught in the air, curling between tangled sheets.
He blinked up at the ceiling, a sheen of sweat cooling across his abs, his breath fast and uneven. "That was… an intense workout," he rasped, voice low and hoarse and utterly ruined.
Someone snorted.
He reached blindly for the glass of water on the nightstand, almost knocking it over in his haste. It hit his palm like salvation. He drank like a man parched, water dripping down his throat, over the curve of his jaw, sliding into the hollow of his collarbone. One drop. Then another. None of the girls moved to wipe it.
Vivian lay sprawled beside him, one leg tossed lazily over his, her hair across the pillows. "It wasn't that bad," she muttered.
But her voice was breathless.
Allen turned his head, eyes half-lidded, and smirked. "You're literally panting."
"I'm glowing," she corrected.
