8
DAWN
Draynor leaps from the bed, my body still quivering in the aftermath of my o****m.
“Okay, I guess I’ll take that as a no, that it was not good for you? Are you trying to tell me that you’ve had better?” I’m joking, of course, I know it was good for him — I felt his pleasure coursing through me the same way I felt my own blood. That’s the thing about Draynor — everything with him is about feeling. Unless, of course, he’s being c**k-blocked by my brain.
Speaking of feeling … I am feeling better. The nausea I started the day with has abated, and the chills are all but gone. Is this a temporary respite? Will that mysterious sickness come back in a few minutes once the afterglow wears off? Draynor’s afterglow seems to have worn off already; he’s tugging his sweatpants up over his hi
