"Daniel Clafford, I am surely not going to forgive you for this," Anna groaned the moment she tried shifting—only to feel every muscle scream in protest.
She shot a murderous glare at the man peacefully snoring beside her, completely unaware of the aftermath he'd left her in.
Anna had woken expecting a pleasant morning. Maybe some stretching. Maybe breakfast.
Instead?
Her body felt paralyzed.
Every movement reminded her of just how ruthlessly, passionately, and enthusiastically Daniel had destroyed her last night.
She jabbed his arm with one finger—because that was the only strength she currently possessed. "Wake up, menace."
Daniel didn't move.
So she poked again. Harder. "I'm dying. This is your fault."
A low hum left his chest as he stirred, eyelids fluttering open. When he saw her pout, he smiled like he'd just won the lottery.
"Good morning, wifey."
"Don't 'wifey' me," she snapped. "I can't feel my legs."
