Wet Confessions
When release finally claimed them, it was violent, devastating like a storm that left nothing standing in its path.
For a long moment, there was only breath. Silence broken by the sound of hearts still racing, of skin still trembling.
Clara lay beneath him, lips swollen, hair mussed across the pillow, eyes dark with victory. She reached up, brushing her fingers across his jaw, lazy and claiming. Then she smiled a slow, cruel, intoxicating smile.
“Now,” she whispered, voice dripping with triumph, “you’ll never look at my sister the same again.”
Bab Populer