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I pull out just a little bit, and then roll my hips against her, grinding the head of my cock against the spot inside her that makes her squirm, even in her sleep.

Should I make her cum?

I have before. She convulsed and twitched for me, but she wasn’t awake to remember it.

Should I let her feel it now?

No, I don’t think so.

Now wasn’t the time to show her how good it could feel. Tonight was the night I would break her. Bleed her. I would breed her, if I hadn’t done that already.

So I pull back my hips again and drill into her, hard, until her cervix kisses the head of my cock and her head rolls back, her bound hands shaking.

Poor baby.

Poor, scared little church mouse. My cock is too big, too much for a scared little virgin like her.

I fuck myself into her, rolling against her and pushing until she starts to whisper, her lips moving softly, and her words coming in silent puffs of air.

Is she… praying?

I pull back again and slam into her hard, slapping my hips into her until she whines, and her mouth drops open in a silent scream.

There we go.

That’s it.

Forget about God, baby. Pray to me instead.

“Good girl,” I tell her, and she whimpers again.

Maybe she hates the sound of my voice. Maybe she loves it. I may never know.

I pull back and push into her again, harder still, until the sound of our hips colliding screams around the room. I don’tmiss it when she moans, just a little bit, and then I feel her thighs tighten around me and her pussy quivers against the base of my cock.

Is she… enjoying this?

Reaching down with one hand, I frame her perfect pussy with two parted fingers and then slide my thumb between her slick lips, following the line up until the pad of my thumb finds the swollen bud of her clit and she shudders against me.

She is. She’s fucking drenched.

She likes this.

Even if she will never admit it—not to me or anyone else—I can tell.

I roll my thumb across her clit, stroking it softly, just enough that she arches against me as I continue to fuck her.

She’s going to cum for me.

She’s going to cum on my cock while I rape her—and there was no mistaking that that’s what this is.

I’m raping Mercy Clarke, and she was fucking getting off on it, the sick fucking bitch.

I continue to stroke her, to play with her and tease her until she moans again, and the way her walls clench tells me she won’t be much longer. My strokes become softer, shallower, grinding against the spot inside her that will make my little bird sing for me.

Then she does.

She throws her head back, her shoulders rolling and her back arching, and a flood of warmth splashes across the base of my cock. Her pussy clamps down on me, and I can’t hold it in any longer. I slam myself into her as hard as I can, rolling her up until her pelvis tilts and her hips roll, and I nearly bend her in half and empty my balls inside her.