And then I feel her blow up, her body shivering as the orgasm washes over her.
I let myself go in the second after her.
And in that sweaty, passion fueled moment, I do forget my own name. But the name of this woman—my captive, my wife, the last thing my father ever gave to me—remains on my lips.
When I wake up, I’m alone.
I reach out and touch the other side of the mattress. Even though it bears the indent from Artem’s body, it’s cold, too.
Wherever he went to, he’s been gone for a little while at least.
There’s a cold draft blowing from somewhere unseen. The thin sheet on the bed isn’t enough to warm me, so I get up and look around for my clothes.
I see them folded neatly on a chair at the corner of the room by the window.
I pad over and slip on my bra and panties. I’m reluctant t
