When Primrose opened her eyes, she immediately noticed something strange.
She wasn't in Edmund's bedroom anymore.
She blinked a few times and stared at the white ceiling above her. She lay there like a frozen statue, bracing herself for the inevitable pain like chronic back pain, soreness in her hole, exhaustion that would leave her unable to walk for days.
But … nothing.
There was no soreness, no discomfort, no ache between her legs. It was as if last night's intense activities had never even happened.
Slowly, she sat up, her fingers brushing over the soft, silky fabric covering her body. The long blue nightgown felt so smooth against her skin, as if she had been bathed and dressed while she slept.
It was weird though.
Wasn't she supposed to be suffering right now?
She had heard countless stories about what happened when a woman spent too much time having sex with a strong man. How she wouldn't even be able to stand the next morning, let alone move. But what was this?
