You've decided to sleep with a guy.

Of course, he couldn't let it go unpunished.

He tracked you down. He cut off the car. He pulled you out by the hand while that tiny boy with a broken lip froze in his chair, too scared to move.

And now...

You're pressed into the windshield of his Bentley. Cold glass presses on the cheek and his body presses on his back. The gloves are off. Fingers dig into your hips, leaving bruises-tags.

"Twelve minutes..."

His voice is a whisper in your ear, his lips burn your skin.

I'll make you remember your body is mine. Your moans are mine. Even your fear belongs to me.