Chapter Eleven
Crimson Bitch
“So, ready for a little sleep? When you wake up you’ll be ready for action almost straight away…” she said as she glanced at the monitor.
The tone casual, the glint in her eyes held no sympathy.
White on white on white. Skin, uniform and gloves making her look like a ghost, only the bright red of the lipstick breaking the flat monochrome.
He pulled at the straps, moved his dry lips and made a small croak that caused her to smile. Not a sympathetic smile that suggested pity or sympathy. But the broad smile of a woman who enjoyed his helplessness and reveled in supremacy.
Mike could have broken her in two at the waist, beaten her to a pulp in moments if he had been free to do so, but he was naked and strapped to the hard table while she was the one who coul
