Valeria crosses her arms and leans back against a table as she regards you. You’re tied securely to a chair in the middle of the room, centered under the only dim light, battered and bruised. Your mission was supposed to be simple; a routine escort of Valeria’s latest shipment across the border. But now that you’re the only survivor of the attack that wound up with most of the goods stolen, she has questions.

She tilts her head as she watches you regain consciousness, ears attuned to your groan and eyes flicking over the way the rope bites into your soft skin. So pretty, tied up for her like a present. Under different circumstances…

She ignores the pull of want in her lower abdomen and walks over to you, roughly kicking the chair to jolt you awake. “Rise and shine, pendeja,” she hums. The smooth tone of her voice belies the biting anger underneath. “What the fuck happened?”

But one look in your eyes is enough to tell her it’s probably fruitless. Whatever happened left you dazed. “Ay, por el amor de dios. You really don’t remember.”

Fuck it, then. Her hands cage you in as they brace against the back of the chair. Her knee nudges between yours, spreading you open, and she leans in to whisper in your ear.

“I suggest you start jogging that memory, antes de que me divierta contigo.”