Morning light crept through the windows like an unwelcome guest.
Kael opened his eyes slowly, brain foggy, body screaming. Every muscle ached. His cock felt like someone had sandpapered it raw.
Aria was still curled against his side, breathing slow and deep. Her hair was a disaster—matted, tangled, streaked with dried cum. Bite marks dotted her shoulders and neck. Her thighs were pressed together, sealed shut with dried white.
He looked at the room.
The mattress was soaked through to the frame. The floor near the bed had puddles that hadn't been there before.
The room smelled like a fucking brothel.
We really did go at it, didn't we.
Kael groaned and sat up.
Aria stirred. Her eyes fluttered open—hazy, unfocused, struggling to process the morning light. She tried to move.
"Ow."
"Morning."
She turned her head to look at him. Her voice was gone—hoarse, barely a whisper, ruined from hours of screaming.
"What time is it?"
