HER POV:

The alarm cuts through the silence at 7:00, sharp and unforgiving, and I jolt awake tangled in sheets. My body aches deep, a dull, throbbing soreness that settles between my thighs and across my ribs when I stretch. I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, and my nipples brush against the thin cotton of my sleep shirt, already oversensitive, still marked by the teeth and fingers. I can feel the bruising hickeys buried under my shirt when I press a palm to my breast, a faint ache that makes my breath catch. I don’t think about it. Just stand, pull on clothes that cover the worst of the marks, only bother to conceal the dark bruises blooming up my neck.