Awareness returned to Jay not as a gentle dawn, but as a series of brutal, sensory assaults.First, the smell. Expensive, masculine cologne clinging to the silk sheets, a scent that was now seared into his memory as the aroma of his violator.Then, the feel. A deep, throbbing ache that seemed to emanate from the very center of his being, a hollowed-out soreness that spoke of a brutal, unwanted invasion.Finally, the sight. The opulent, unfamiliar ceiling of Rafe’s suite, bathed in the cheery, mocking light of a Milanese morning.He was alone.With a groan that was part pain, part fury, Jay pushed himself up onto his elbows. The sheet fell away, and his eyes tracked down his own body. His breath hitched. His wrists were circled with dark, perfect bruises—a testament to being pinned, held down, rendered powerless. More mottled, purplish marks decorated his hips and the sensitive skin of his inner thighs, a map of a possessive, cruel grip."Shit," he breathed out, the word raw and ragged
ปรับปรุงล่าสุด : 2025-11-11 อ่านเพิ่มเติม