Emma woke up alone in Victor’s massive bed, sheets twisted around her naked body, the scent of sex still heavy in the air. Her wrists bore faint red marks from the silk ties, her pussy ached deliciously from the night before—swollen, tender, still leaking a slow trickle of his cum mixed with her own wetness. She could taste him on her lips, feel the ghost of his tongue everywhere he’d licked her clean after she’d peed for him. Shame and hunger twisted together in her belly.

But the sob from behind that door echoed louder than any orgasm.