Chapter 12 The Terms Of Belonging

• The kitchen was still steeped in heat.
• The coffee had gone cold, the marble streaked with sweat and breath and the kind of silence that didn’t ask to be broken. Ivy stayed where he had left her, chest pressed to the counter, legs weak, her body pulsing with the rhythm he’d buried in her. She could still feel him inside her, thick and hard and unapologetic. The echo of his voice haunted the air around them.
• She didn’t speak.