“Fuck, still so tight.”
That’s the first thing I hear after dying.
Not a heavenly choir. Not a wise guide explaining the mechanics of reincarnation. Just a voice like dark honey and broken glass, breath scorching hot against my neck, and a body that absolutely isn’t mine pressed close to someone else’s.
I have objections. So many objections.
I was twenty-eight, overworked to the point of literal death, and had never so much as kissed anyone seriously. None of that seems to matter to the omega body I’ve just woken up in. It’s trembling, making soft, broken sounds into expensive silk sheets, while my actual mind is still standing in the corner going what the fuck, WHAT THE FUCK???
By the time I finally see his face, it’s far too late for dignity.
Gray eyes cold as a winter storm. Features sharp enough to cut. The kind of beautiful that doesn’t ask permission before it ruins you.
It gets so much worse when I learn his name.
Wuchen Bael.
My sister’s fiancé.
The man who looks me dead in the eye afterward and says, without blinking:
“Round two?”
And I haven’t even gotten to the part where I find out I’m pregnant.
NovelToon got authorization from Mayspens to publish this work, the content is the author's own point of view, and does not represent the stand of NovelToon.
