47. Jealous

Esme’s POV

I wake up to the smell of toast and coffee that had so much milk that I could smell it from my dream.

Or maybe this was a dream. I forced my eyes opened and tried my best to sit up despite the obvious complaint from my every body part.

I was too sore to do anything.

“You are up.”

I don’t have to turn to see that it’s Silvan and I shot him a glare.

Yesterday he had acted like some helpless sheep when he had just been some big bad wolf.

I had spent the entire night relieving him of the poison in his body, although, at some point, with how sore my pussy had gotten, I suspected that I was the target of the culprit.

Maybe the perosn had predicted that I would have saved Silvan. That had to be it.

There’s no way any girl would agree to a night of torture.

“Don’t come here…” I warned as he walked to my side of the bed with a tray.

Although, judging by how hoarse my voice was, I had to say that I had enjoyed it as much.

“What are you saying? You don’t want me to take care of yo