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The talk makes me burn with shame. My eyes feel wet, but I don't say anything, and I don't leave. I just sit there, letting them talk about me, because they're right. I want to be used by Julius Earl.
He owns me.
The dinner continues. Courses are taken away and brought in. They eat and talk about me.
"Has she been broken in?" a woman asks.
"She's not a virgin," a man says.
"Hardly," a woman laughs. "That one was a slut at birth."
I have to bite my lip not to say something. But I hold my tongue, and I watch Julius. He hasn't taken his eyes off of me, and the desire is still burning in his eyes. It's lighting a fire in me that won't let me get up and leave.
I need him.
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