Chapter 4The air in the bedroom is thick, suffocating, smelling of sweat, semen, and my own shattered restraint. Marcus lies beside me, his chest heaving, the evidence of his climax cooling on my back. The silence stretches, heavy and accusing, wrapping around my throat like a noose. My heart hammers against my ribs, a frantic rhythm that matches the throbbing between my legs. Guilt claws at my stomach, sharp and jagged, but it’s tangled with something else, a dark, sticky residue of pleasure that won’t wash away.I shove Marcus. Hard. My hands connect with his damp, slick shoulder, pushing him aside. He grunts, shifting, confusion flickering across his face, but I don’t wait. I scramble off the bed, my legs trembling so violently I nearly collapse. I need to get out. I need to run. The torn dress hangs off my body like a rag, useless and exposing, but I don’t care. I lunge for the door, stumbling over the debris of our clothing, his shredded shirt, my ruined panties.I burst into
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