The chamber was plunged into semi-darkness, only disturbed by the silvery reflections of the moon that filtered through the large windows.
The air was still heavy and saturated with a mixture of the smell of chef's sauce, sweat and Lynn's intoxicating perfume. The purple sheets, totally wrinkled and thrown in disorder, testified to the ardor of the previous hours.
Jasper was lying on his back, his torso bare, his albinos skin of a sickly pallor contrasting with the shadows of the room. His hands were crossed behind his head.
His eyes, despite his blindfolds one could determine that they were staring at the ceiling with intensity.
At his side, Lynn Of Lake was half propped up, leaning on an elbow. Her long purple hair fell in wild cascades over her bare back and shoulders, framing a face of arrogant beauty that still retained the traces of recent pleasure.
