Truce

When Wendy got up the next morning, she was sore all over. Pleasantly sore. They had gone on and on like sex starved rabbits until they were exhausted.

Louis was still asleep. He was so cute, laying down there, so vulnerably, breathing softly. She was instantly tempted to take those perfect full lips in her mouth and kiss them till he woke up. And then climb over him and ride him till they both came. Wetness formed immediately in between her legs and she sat up.

This man was going to be the end of her

She was going to be ruined by this man who she found tragically irresistible and who counted her as one of his many lays.

She had not been able to stop herself the previous night, matter how much she wanted to. She had gone from been terribly upset with him to begging him over and over again to take her, to 'fuck her hard', and screaming off the top her voice when he obliged without hesitation.

She didn't regret it. But she hated that she didn't regret it. That she, in fact, was