There’s a dip of the mattress before our skin meets, a cool cheek pressing into my shoulder. It startles me, my muscles tensing at the sudden invasion, but for some reason I can’t do anything but lie there as Story nestles into my side. My eyes fly open, gaping at the top of her head as she settles against me, a knee dragging over my thigh, her soft tits pressing into my ribs. “Thank you,” she whispers, resting her hand on my chest. I stare at her hand, at the raggedly bitten thumbnail, at the wrist cuff that marks her as our property, at the way her fingers curl against my skin. And my
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