Her blood ran cold.
"W-what..."
The word came out barely above a whisper, her voice strangled by disbelief and horror.
Marla stared at the writing, her mind refusing to process what she was seeing.
'He was here. In my apartment. In my room.'
Her hands clutched the bedsheet so tightly her knuckles went white.
'How did he get in? How did he know where I live? How did he—'
The questions spiraled out of control, each one more terrifying than the last.
But the worst part—the part that made her stomach twist with nausea—
Was that her body still felt 'warm'.
Her lips were still tingling. Her nipples were still hard. Her pussy was still wet, throbbing with unfulfilled need that made her want to scream.
He'd touched her. Kissed her. 'Claimed' her.
And then he'd just... left.
Marla's gaze snapped back to the glowing words on the wall.
"Too irresistible," she repeated, her voice hollow.
Like it was a 'joke'.
