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21

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By the time Alex and I finished, I was exhausted and wrung out, and I would wake up sore as hell tomorrow, but I didn’t care. Alex hadn’t held back, and that was what I’d wanted. Needed.

Somehow, in choosing to let go, I’d never felt more powerful. Strength in weakness, control in submission.

“Aren’t you tired?” I yawned, watching Alex through half-droopy eyes. We’d gone at it for what must’ve been hours, but whereas I was ready to pass out, he looked alert and awake as ever.

“If by ‘tired’ you mean you wore me out, perhaps,” he said in an uncharacteristically teasing tone. “But if you’re asking whether I’m sleepy, no.”

“How is that possible?” I mumbled into my pillow.

“Insomnia, Sunshine. I sleep a few hours a night—if I’m lucky.”

I frowned. “But that’s…” Another huge yawn. “Not good.”Humans need sleep. How had Alex survived all this time on only a few hours a night? “We should fix that. Chamomile tea. Meditation. Melatonin…” My voice drift
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