Bulgae PoV
I groaned softly, stirring in the tangled sheets as the first rays of dawn filtered through the window. My eyes blinked open to see the soft white hair of the woman I held in my arms, still asleep and curled against my chest. Ramona. The night came rushing back in vivid flashes — her shy moans, the way her body felt beneath mine, how eagerly she took everything I gave her.
He had gotten drunk last night, that much he remembered. He had confessed how he'd been wanting her for weeks, how he could barely keep his hands off her whenever she walked past. The way her cute sheep ears would twitch when she was nervous, those soft purple eyes darting away from his gaze — it drove him insane with desire. And when she finally let him touch her last night, all that pent-up hunger had come pouring out.
