One Temptation

Morning After (Chapter 60)

I'M SO SORRY GUYS. 

PLEASE FORGIVE ME

I haven't updated in a while now, I started school and had guests over, and I was going through this relationship problem all at the same time, it's just been very chaotic. 

I'm sorry, but hopefully I can get back to writing soon.

Also I will soon be going back and editing all the chapters as I write, so I apologise in advance for all the notifications. Don't worry, no major changes just some editing of grammar and maybe some line changes.

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West's Pov:

I woke up to the golden sunlight slicing through my curtains, right in my damn eyes. I groaned, throwing an arm over my face. 

My body felt heavy, sluggish, like I'd barely slept — which, yeah, tracks because my brain had been on a loop since last night.

Madison Monroe.

Fuck.

My head hit the pillow with a thud as the full weight of reality crashed down on me.

I kissed Mads. 

The bigger acknowledgment was:

She kissed me back.

Not just some quick, awkward shit either. No, she was on top of me, grinding like no tomorrow.

Her mouth was all over mine, wild and desperate, like she needed me just as bad as I needed her. And God, I needed her. Still do.

My body hadn't forgotten a damn thing from last night — especially not the way her hips rolled against me, the friction making my entire body tense. I was rock hard beneath her, and she didn't even flinch. If anything, she pushed harder.

And that lap dance? Jesus fucking Christ. Her hands on my shoulders, her body moving in such a sexy way, I swear if people weren't watching I would've bent her over right there.

And the fucked-up part? We didn't even go all the way. Just a heated makeout session, dry humping like horny teenagers.

We were horny teenagers. Literally.

All we did was kiss. Grinding, sure, but fully clothed, no actual release — just her, on top of me, moving in a way that had me questioning every damn thing I thought I knew.

And that was the thing. I didn't do dry humping. Hell, I couldn't even remember the last time I'd messed around without going all the way — probably when I was fifteen and still figuring out how to unhook a bra. 

I didn't mess with buildup and teasing. If I wanted someone, I took them to bed, no games, no hesitation. 

But Mads had me losing my mind over just a kiss and the way her hips rolled against me.

My hand dragged down my face as I groaned into the pillow. The image of her last night was burned into my brain — her wild curls bouncing, lips swollen from kissing, her body pressed against mine, grinding like she couldn't get close enough.

She was addictive, and I was completely hooked. If it had been anyone else, I would've shrugged it off, maybe gotten a quick fix, and moved on. But with Mads I wanted whatever she was willing to give me. 

If that meant kissing until my jaw went numb and getting blue-balled like some desperate idiot, then so be it. I'd take it.

But fuck, my imagination was not making it easy to keep my hands to myself.