Elena stood in front of her bedroom mirror long after Marcus had gone downstairs. The loose shirt he had put on her still covered everything, but she lifted the hem slowly and looked at what he had left.

The original hickey on her left breast had deepened to a dark plum. Its twin on the right was only a little lighter. The newer marks along her ribs sat in a scattered constellation of purple and red, each one distinct, each one still faintly shiny where he had rubbed his cum into them and left it to dry. She touched the edge of the highest bruise with two fingertips. The skin...