The train’s brakes made a sound. The world outside the windows slid into a blur of concrete and steel, then resolved into a brightly lit platform. People milled about, their faces anonymous smudges. This was her stop. Her apartment was ten minutes from here. Her life, her normal, predictable life, was waiting just beyond those sliding doors. But she couldn’t move. She was pinned to her seat by his gaze, by the lingering aftershocks of the orgasm he had ripped from her body, and by the ...