40
The Key and the Box
Asherley wished the little imbecile would hurry himself along. He seemed to drag it out on purpose, as if he had some seventh sense about how achingly sore her n*****s were, or how little she enjoyed bouncing upon his bony lap. Once, she suggested he take her from behind, thinking to give herself some reprieve, and immediately realized her error by the dejected horror painted on his face. But how will I drink? She didn’t propose it again.
When at last he finished, face stretched into a grotesque pleasure that would have turned hers sour had she been there for any of her own, he didn’t immediately erupt into yawns and signals for her to tuck him in. He seemed more awake than before she’d come to his chamber. She glanced at the door, eager to return to the guard, to
