"I'm home, my fucken neighbours!"
Olivia stirred beneath the covers at the sound of Lily's voice echoing through the apartment. Her body twitched, but just the slightest attempt to move made her freeze.
"Holy shit," she groaned softly, clutching her stomach. Her insides ached like they'd been slammed with a truck. No—like they'd been wrecked by a certain man with sinful hands, a sharp tongue, and a stamina that belonged out of the world.
Last night.
The memories came rushing back in a flood, like flipping through vivid pages of an erotica novel, only it was her. Her body. Her gasps. Her surrender.
She turned her head to look beside her, and there he was, her destroyer. Dylan. Peaceful, sprawled out like he hadn't fucked her into oblivion the night before. His dark lashes rested against his cheeks, his chest rising and falling with that frustrating, effortless calm that made her want to smack him and straddle him at the same time.
