Ella
“Come in.” Sinclair’s voice sounds even deeper than usual, and I’m wondering if I’m imagining it. I waited as long as I could bear before coming to his rooms after finding some relief for all the pent up s****l tension he’s created in me. Still, I don’t feel nearly satisfied. My s*x is still swollen and pulsing with need, and I’m terrified that he’ll somehow be able to tell how erotically charged I am.
The larger problem, however, is that I’m exhausted. I’m desperate for some rest, especially after missing my usual afternoon nap amidst the preparations for the festival. As the pregnancy progresses I can’t help but think how ironic it is that the closer I come to bringing a baby into the world, the more childlike I seem to become: overly sensitive, constantly exhausted, picky about
