She was supposed to be asleep by now. Stockings still clinging to thighs, bra unhooked but left dangling—someone forgot to tuck it in properly before crawling into bed alone. Then that sound: wet lips parting around something thick, eyes fluttering shut like she knew someone was peeking through the crack in the door. No warning light spills from under it—they’d turned everything off hours ago. Just moonlight pooling over bare skin where a hand slides up from behind, nails dragging down her spine while her head lolls back against pillows soaked with something darker than sweat.
