Raven woke up alone.
Every muscle screamed. The deep soreness between her legs made her hiss through her teeth. Raw. Throbbing. Every tiny shift of her hips sent fresh pain shooting up her spine. Vincent hadn't been gentle. He'd fucked her like he owned her — and part of her still hated how hard she'd come while screaming his name.
Her thighs were bruised. Her hips carried fingerprints. Even breathing pulled at the rawness where he'd gripped her too tight.
She pushed herself up slowly, wincing hard. The sheets reeked of sweat and sex and him. That heavy diamond ring on her finger glinted in the morning light like a fucking shackle.
Raven De Luca.
The name burned in her throat.
