"Fuck, you look like hell," Marina sneered, "but don't worry, we'll fix you up. After all, Jack likes his toys in one piece." Sarah flinched but didn't pull away, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.
Marina's smirk deepened as she grabbed the hem of Sarah's shirt, yanking it over her head in one rough motion. The fabric tore slightly as it came free, exposing Sarah's bare torso—her small, perked nipples hardening in the cool air, the dark, damp curls under her arms thick and unruly, clinging to her skin with sweat.
"Look at you," Marina taunted, her fingers brushing over the coarse hair in Sarah's armpits. "All natural, huh? Bet you've never even thought about shaving this mess, have you?" She grabbed Sarah's wrist, forcing her arm up to expose the dense patch of hair, her nose wrinkling in exaggerated disgust.
