~Bianca's POV~

Twenty minutes.

That's how long I paced in that damn dining room: barefoot, furious, and splintering apart from the inside out.

I couldn't stop replaying it. His mouth. His voice. My body.

Why had I reacted like that?

Why was I still aching for him?

Still slick after everything he'd done?

I was disgusting.

I blamed the red room. I blamed the trauma. I blamed the fact that Nathan hadn't touched me in so long that maybe my body had forgotten what safe ...