The Nightmare (The Mist Book 2)

Istood in front of my mirror, repeating positive affirmations to give myself the courage to go out and face Zain. The vivid images of the previous night kept replaying in a loop in my head. I could almost feel his hands on me again, the heat of his body, his hard length wrecking me as I begged for more.

I pressed my palms to my burning cheeks, mortified. Worse still, shame burned in my gut as every inch of me ached for more. I didn’t know that I could keep my hands to myself when I next saw him, especially since he would undoubtedly stake his claim the minute we met.

I’d been so stupid. Even now, as I tried to remind myself what arguments had convinced me to give in to my deepest and darkest desires, they now sounded hollow. I allowed myself to be convinced because I wanted to be, because of my unhealthy attraction to everything that was bad for me.

My intercom buzzed for the second time, startling me. Zain had good reasons to be impatient. Taking a deep breath, I pushed away from the sink and forced myself to leave my room. On my way to Zain’s quarters, I passed a few agents who greeted me as they headed towards whatever duty called them. There was nothing different about their behavior, and yet, every stare felt like a condemnation, like everyone knew what sinful activity I had indulged in and was still craving.