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CHAPTER FIFTEEN

GINEVRA

I jerked awake to heat, my heart plummeting my ribcage.

My body had tightened with want beneath the sheets, my lips eliciting strained gasps.

I had woken from the same dream—a nightmare, perhaps. It had been the same dream that had had me dreading sleep in the last seven days. The same dream that was filled with the face of the man whose essence had seeped into my bloodstreams. Like he was a part of me.

Figuratively, I was born with a weak heart.

It had only been a few days since Ghost was here. Only a few days since his hands were on me. A few days since his lips had peppered across my skin, unraveling every inch of me.

Only a few days, and yet, I missed him desperately. I yearned for him. I desired his touch—his absence aggravated me.

I needed him like he was my oxygen. As though I couldn’t breathe without him.

It was foolish, I knew. I was foolish, and my heart had been the most foolish of all my organs.

Frustrated by my disoriented state, I slipped off the bed and headed
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