Titania
Kristoff stands in the doorway, in his suit pants and a white t-shirt. A dark figure, but I can still make out his handsome, slick features even in the darkness. I can feel his gaze on me, taking in my appearance — the torn dress and smudged make-up. He takes a few steps forward and shuts the door behind him, trapping out the light. I fall back on the bed, the wall behind me cold against my skin.
Shit's about to go down.
He clears his throat, then takes off his watch, tossing it on the floor. It makes a huge clunk sound as it falls, but I'm too concentrated on him. To scared of what's about to come, even though I don't know what he's going to do to me. He rolls up his sleeves, one after the other, carefully. I stare at them, at how big they are, at how big-muscled and powerful t
