43: Ghost Of His Touch

ADRIANA

Xander is an overbearing ass. I wish I’d punched him when he groped me. Without permission no less.

And my traitorous body. I think I’m more angry at myself than him because of my own actions. How had my body betrayed me in such a way?

The moment he got his hands on me, I creamed my panties. When he’d palmed my mound, I was hit with the realization that I was wearing next to nothing. Or even nothing, seeing as the sheer material hid nothing from his eyes.

“You look fucking good in this,” he’d growled, working his finger into my pussy. “Spread out for me like a meal. You’re the best meal I’ve ever had, and I’ve been starving.”

I snapped my eyes open, pulling myself away from the reminder of the horrendous dream.

I’d woken up just as my body reached its peak. One minute, I was against the wall with Xander’s imposing presence all around me. And the next, I was getting up from my bed with a start. My body shudders and spasms as it reaches climax.

It had been good to know it wasn’t