Make Them Regret

Exhaustion settled over me as he finished, my eyelids growing heavy as he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead.

"Sleep, mama," he whispered, his hand brushing through my hair. "I've got you."

When I woke, sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a soft glow over the room. I blinked, my mind foggy, trying to piece together where I was and what had happened. Then, memories flooded back—the warmth of his touch, the way he'd looked at me, his words. A flush crept up my cheeks. I'd given myself to him, fully, and… I'd liked it. Every moment. Every reckless second. The thought made my stomach flip, embarrassment and something unnameable mingling inside me.