I know it’s an asshole move, but as I lean down and press a kiss against her lips, I make a silent promise that once she’s mine, like she’s always meant to be, I’ll never let her wake up without me again. That I’ll never let her question how I feel about her, how much I want her, how I don’t want to exist without her.

“I love you, little bird,” I murmur against her lips then I leave, hating each step that takes me away from her. “Give yourself back to me soon.”

26

STARLING

My body slowly comes to life and I groan as my muscles protest against the movement. Taking stock of what hurts I realize it’s all of me. I feel weak and yet it’s not a bad pain, more of an exhausted bliss.

Blinking my eyes open, I stare up at the vaulted ceiling above me. There’re tiny stars painted into the rafters that sparkle in the sunlight. Twisting my head to the right I expect to find Sebastian, peaceful and almost soft in sleep, only the bed is empty. I’m alone. Reaching out I touch the sheets beside me, they’re cold, he’s been gone a while.

He left.

He fucked me all night, waking me up with his dick every time I fell asleep and then he just left. I rack my brain, trying to decide if he woke me up to say goodbye, but the last thing I remember is him draping my legs over his shoulders and fucking me. He held me immobile, not able to do anything but take him pounding into me over and over until I screamed my release. I must have passed out after that and instead of sleeping beside me, he left.

Sitting up, the sheet I must have pulled over myself at some point slips to my waist and I see the remnants of our night all over my skin. My nipples are swollen and red, not their usual pink, there’re bite marks and hickeys all over me and from the tenderness in my neck, it’s received the same treatment.

There’s dry cum on my stomach and as I lift the sheet my thighs are covered in it too. I’m honestly not sure how many times we had sex last night, but it must be at least nine, or ten. Curling my legs upward, there’s a pull between them that I know will linger for at least the rest of the day, maybe longer.

My bladder protests, so I carefully climb out of the bed and pad slowly to the bathroom. When I’m done, I wash my hands and stare at my reflection in the mirror. I look well and truly fucked. Ridden hard and put away wet. Ravished. But instead of basking in the afterglow of amazing sex, I feel hollow and empty.

I expected him to be here, I expected to have to deal with his domineering ways, to have to kick him out and remind him that what happened between us was just a one-off. But instead I’m alone. He didn’t even care long enough for the sheets to cool before he was grabbing his clothes and any other evidence of him being here and leaving me like I was nothing more than a girl he met at a party and spent the night screwing.