"I am never," Nikki whispered to the empty, sprawling bedroom, "getting drunk ever again."
She lay flat on her back, staring blankly up at the ceiling. Every single muscle in her body thrummed with a deep, lingering ache. Adonis had thoroughly, ruthlessly ravished her, executing her desperate command with the terrifying stamina of a machine built for war.
He had successfully wiped her mind blank in the dark. But now, in the crisp, artificial morning light pouring through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the shadows were creeping back in.
Nikki pulled the thick silk duvet up to her collarbone, but she couldn't say she was genuinely happy.
The physical pleasure had been a necessary distraction, a brutal reset to keep her from completely breaking down. Yet, as her heartbeat returned to a normal rhythm, a cold realization settled into her bones.
She had gotten too relaxed.
