Chapter 11: Hangovers Can Burn In Hell

Priscilla’s POV

Hot breath puffed against the back of my neck as long fingers swept my hair to the side. His touches were soft, gentle. Those delicate lips hovered against the side of my throat, offering me the coveted thrill of his mouth.

But the sensations felt hushed, a ghost of how his touch really felt. I indulged in it, nonetheless.

Wyatt was in my head, filling my dreams, but this felt different. Our bodies were drawn to each other as I leaned my back against his chest. He left tender kisses against my neck. I pulled away from him, turning to take in those eyes.

They haunted me even in my waking hours. All I could think about was drowning in them. Piecing him together. Waiting eagerly for any shard of his thoughts to break through.

I slid my hands along his throat, hooking both of them in the hair behind his neck. As I pressed my lips against his, I felt cheated. They weren’t plush or responsive as I expected them to be. He felt like a shadow. A shadow that I ached for.