Thursday
To distract herself from the pain and degradation, Aislen had memorized the swirls and curves of the chandelier, with its little drops of black crystal, to the point that she did not doubt that she would be able to draw it and its shadows once she got free. If she ever got free.
It had been hours and it seemed that her entire body throbbed from what Rhett had done to her.
The tattoo was worse than the piercings, as the pain was prolonged, but when he stopped, the piercings made themselves known, conflictingly, but, not entirely unpleasantly, due to their location. Her body confusing the pain signals for pleasure. She was, as a result, angry, frustrated, and horny.
And afraid. Very afraid, she admitted to herself.
As a teenager she had been humiliated by the Triquetra, but
