June's POV
I don't know how long I was out.
Minutes? Hours?
All I remember is the wall. My back pressed hard against it, my legs locked around his waist, his cock driving into me so deep I thought I might unravel. His mouth had latched onto my breast like he needed it to survive—his teeth pulling, tongue circling, lips sucking until I was moaning into his shoulder like a woman possessed.
Then came his fingers.
That hand. That damn hand—slipping down where we were joined, where I was already slick and clenching around him with every brutal thrust. He pinched that bundle of nerves with a precision that felt surgical, cruel, divine.
And I shattered.
Not gently.
It wasn't pretty. It was wild. Explosive.
I think I saw stars. No—I know I did. My legs went numb. My whole body locked up and trembled like I was being electrocuted from the inside out. I screamed his name—not that I knew his real one—and then everything went black.
I must've passed out.
