Allyson's POV
My lungs fought for air as I fled up the staircase, each step echoing through the silent house.
Embers coursed through my veins from where Michael had trapped me against that wall, claiming me like I belonged to him completely.
And for those stolen moments, I surrendered.
Worse than that - I craved it.
His warmth, that intoxicating scent, the solid weight of him crushing me into submission. I had fantasized about it countless nights, replaying scenarios that left me aching.
Now that fantasy had become reality, and I despised how his touch still branded my skin.
The spots where his fingers had circled my wrist throbbed with lingering heat.
My mouth felt swollen from his kisses - desperate, ravenous, yet achingly gentle all at once.
Christ, I loathed myself for not resisting him.
I should have fought back. Struck him. Something. Anything. But I remained frozen.
