Janelle's POV
I wasn't sure what woke me.
Maybe it was the faint jazz playing from somewhere in the apartment. Or the smell of black coffee. Or maybe it was the soft ache between my legs, the reminder that I had given something away the night before and it wasn't just my body.
It was control.
It was me.
I blinked slowly, letting the ceiling come into view high, white, trimmed with gold. Everything in Mirabel's world was expensive. Even the sunlight felt richer here.
My body shifted under the sheets, muscles sore, skin still tingling where her mouth had kissed and bitten and worshipped. I flushed at the memory heat blooming between my legs again.
God.
What the hell had she done to me?
I tried to sit up, but even my thighs felt shy. A soft whimper slipped out, and that's when I heard it
"You're awake."
Her voice.
Deep. Calm. Smirking.
I turned my head.
Mirabel stood at the doorway to her room, arms crossed, wearing a silk robe that matched the blush on my cheeks. Her hair was still damp from the shower. She looked... edible.
"Don't get up too fast," she said, walking in. "Your legs might still be trembling."
I looked away, mortified. "You—You're so"
"Cruel?" she offered, amused. "Maybe. But you were gorgeous last night. I don't think I've ever seen someone fall apart that sweetly."
"Mirabel…"
"Mmh?"
"I don't know what this means."
She walked to the bed, sat beside me, and brushed my hair from my face.
"It doesn't have to mean anything yet," she whispered. "But I want more. Of this. Of you. If you'll let me."
My heart pounded like a secret trying to escape.
And then she leaned in and kissed my forehead. Gentle. Too gentle.
That single gesture confused me more than the entire night of sinful things she'd done.
"Come," she said, standing. "Get dressed. I'm taking you out. I want to feed the girl I ruined."
I stared at her, speechless.
What… the hell was I getting into?
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To be continued