Fevered Meadow Embrace

Then I snapped awake.

Gasping, I lay in my bed, sheets twisted around my legs. My hand drifted down, finding my skin damp and hypersensitive. Tender, almost aching. Confused, I glanced at the clock — 3:17 a.m. My heart pounded as I replayed the dream, so vivid it felt real. Had I always craved something that intense, that unrestrained? The thought lingered as I settled back, my body still humming, and drifted into a restless sleep.

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