The air in the room was still thick with the scent of sex—Emily's limp, exhausted body sprawled across the bed, her breath shallow and uneven as she drifted in and out of consciousness.
The sheets were soaked with sweat and cum, the evidence of our brutal fucking still glistening on her thighs.
My cock was still half-hard, throbbing with the aftershocks of pleasure, my body humming with the raw, primitive satisfaction of having owned her so completely.
I adjusted myself, my muscles still coiled with adrenaline, my pulse pounding in my ears as I turned toward the bathroom. But as I reached the door, I paused.
It was ajar—just a crack, but enough to let the faintest whimper slip through.
My lips curled into a slow, predatory smirk.
I leaned in, my breath silent, my eyes narrowing as I peered through the gap.
And there she was.
