CLAIRE.

I stayed on my knees.

The carpet left red marks on my skin. My thighs were slick. Every time I shifted, the cool air kissed the wetness between my legs and made me bite back a sound. Elena’s order echoed in my head like a brand: Kneeling. Mouth ready.

I didn’t touch myself.

I counted the minutes by the ticking of the hallway clock and the slow, humiliating throb of my empty cunt.

Forty-one minutes later the front door opened downstairs. Heels clicked across hardwood. The stairs creaked under familiar footsteps. My bedroom door unlocked and swung open.

Elena stepped inside still wearing the black dress she had thrown...