“You enjoy when he f***s you,” Samuel says with a sneer. “You pretend that you don’t, but you do. The way you danced with him, the way you looked at him… You claim you don’t care for it. You say you fight him but he takes anyway. Well, I think you want it. I bet you f*****g beg for his dick.”
Again I look at Gwen. She’s in the harem too. She knows what it’s like. But she just crosses her arms and looks down on me with amusement quirking her lips and raising her brows.
“Oh, no. Are you going to cry?” Leah asks with false sympathy. It immediately shifts to hate. “I know you’ve been lusting after my husband since your disgrace, Harper… No, what do they call you here?”
“Harlot,” Gwen provides.
“Harlot,” Leah repeats. “It must hurt you to know how Samuel truly feels about you. How little yo
