Mirea barely made it two steps into her room before slamming the door shut, the sound echoing like a final judgment. Her breath hitched. Her fingers trembled.
She turned away from the door—stumbled—then dropped.
Face-first into the mattress.
Her body hit the bed with a soft thud, breasts compressing beneath her weight, so sensitive it made her flinch.
"Aah—" she exhaled against the pillow, her voice tight, shaky, barely human.
She didn't move.
Couldn't move.
Her whole body buzzed with unbearable tension. Her nipples ached. Not just tingled—ached—full and swollen with some strange pressure, like they needed to be touched or squeezed or—
No.
No, she hated him.
That filthy man. That brute who was defiling Asperia like some wild animal.
But her body... didn't care.
She pulled her knees in, legs curling under her like a dog tucking its tail. Her hips rose slightly, butt instinctively lifting into the air.
