Rika woke up drenched in heat. Not the innocent kind from sunlight slipping through the blinds, but the kind that clung to her skin like smoke, sharp and undeniable. Her sheets were twisted around her legs, damp with sweat, her body still humming with memories she wanted to forget.
But she couldn't.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Daika's smirk. Felt the weight of her voice. Heard that damned word again and again, kitten.
Her breath came shallow as she sat up, clutching the blanket to her chest. She hated herself for the way her thighs still trembled, for the way her body had betrayed her so easily. The memory of Daika's mouth—rough, claiming, merciless, burned into her like a brand.
She wanted to scrub it off, to claw herself clean. But no amount of biting her lip or pressing her nails into her palm made it fade.
