Maisie
I was mad as hell.
I had so many grievances that I didn't even know where to begin listing them.
I was pissed-off walking. Or rather pissed-off sitting, tangled in crimson silk sheets while my skin reeked like I had been having a sexathon.
And that made me even madder.
Just when I thought my life couldn't get any worse, it found a way to get crappier.
I didn't get a choice about any of it. No dating. No flirting. No slow, romantic build-up. Just straight to being screwed senseless by four men who were probably now walking around feeling like their dicks were the hugest, most magnificent and perfect creations under the sun.
Which—I cringed—I vividly remembered telling them a time or too.
Well, maybe several times.
I sat up and glanced around. I was in my old bedroom, but in truth, I was still back there. In that bed downstairs. Chained to the post like an animal. Having sex.
Goddess. I'd had sex with those men.
