Proserpina

I was torn between wanting to hate the man, who was holding me and making my heart pound, the wetness to pool between my thighs, to sag against him and let him continue to kiss me.

The others left, Schwartz with a quizzical gleam in his eyes and the girl called Sophie who grinned at me. Danielle was her brisk self, stomping out of the room; the after-fight party would begin in an hour and she had things to take care of. Grace smiled tremulously at me as she ...