Chapter 21 Obsessed

Roxane had dragged her body to the shower and stood beneath the hot spray, as the water washed away the touch of the man who had made violent love to her. But she could still feel him, his rough touch, his stubble rubbing against her skin. Her first lover, she thought bitterly as she leaned her forehead against the walls of the shower cabin, her eyes dry. For she had not cried; her sorrow, her hurt, was too deep for tears. In a way, she felt violated, and treated like a common prostitute by the man she had come to love in some strange way.