Today I was helping cut fruit in the kitchen when he suddenly walked up behind me to grab a glass. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it would explode, my fingers were trembling, and I nearly cut myself. The familiar scent of him instantly pulled me back to last night—the memory of him pinning me to the sofa, roughly tearing open my nightgown, and using that part of him I both love and fear to push deep inside me. My legs are still weak, and my underwear is completely soaked. This secret, thrilling sensation is addictive, but it also makes me feel so scared I could throw up.