Writhing in heat with sweat dripping down her thighs; the edge of her hair, and those heaving breasts perked up on both sides, Brenna licked her lips and sighed. The fire bustling in her heart had yet to be quenched, and even though her bedroom had now been turned into a shrine for her husband, she couldn't help touching herself.
Drenched in sweat while thinking back to the time when Raven touched her down there, she felt herself drifting even though her mind kept screaming for her to stop.
'I feel thirsty…' Sweating like a pig through hours of edging, Brenna finally pulled herself off the futon on the floor and made her way toward the kitchen. The sound of her cold feet echoed through the hallways, but along with it, she heard the subtle grunting coming from the guestroom. It was fainter than a whisper yet the hollowness of the night amplified the sound tenfold.