After Luke left the room, Anya sat on the bed in a Seiza posture, silent and motionless. Her face, initially blank, twisted into an expression of pure rage.
"Damn it. Damn it. DAMN IT!" she cursed loudly, slamming her hands against the bed. The force of her frustration caused the bedframe to snap under her palms.
Her breath came in shallow gasps as she raised her skirt, noticing how utterly drenched her panties had become.
'How long… how long has it been since I felt like this? No matter how much I try with other men, it's just disgusting. I can't feel a thing, but with Luke…' Anya's thoughts trailed off, a mix of yearning and determination burning in her gaze.
'Luke is mine. He's always been mine. I don't care what people say or think about us. If it were a different situation, no one would even bat an eye.' A sly smile curled her lips as a realization solidified in her mind.
