And then he was turning her, lifting her, walking her back behind a tall stack of crates and barrels. He set her to the wall, barely out of sight of the washwomen, and planted his hands on either side of her head, caging her in for his kisses—more and more drugging, more and more desperate, threatening to pull her deeper and deeper into whatever it was that had brought him back. Threatening to make her beg for him— Don’t ever stop. And then he fit his strong thigh between hers, the heavy weight of it against her aching flesh pulling a little cry from the back of her throat—only loud enough for
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