The Next Morning...
Golden rays of morning sunlight slipped through the curtains, brushing softly against Anna's bare shoulders. Birds chirped sweetly outside. The weather was calm—but she wasn't. She was far from calm.
With a sharp gasp, she shot upright in bed. Her body was already heating up. Her thighs instinctively rubbed together, slickness gathering between them. She itched with a need she had never felt before—so intense it was maddening. Her skin tingled at even the soft touch of her bedsheets, like someone who'd been kissed, caressed, and then left unsatisfied.
It had happened yesterday too—waking up like this. Heart pounding. Lips parted. The ghost of a dream clinging to her skin. A dream she could never remember. Only flashes. Heat. A mouth. A touch. She'd ignored it yesterday. But now... it was worse.
The hunger wasn't going away.
