Page 28 of Vile Pucker

“You’re insane!” I whimpered.

It was truly terrifying to be faced directly with insanity, to have insanity right directly in front of me, one big arm pressing me against the wall, his thick cock hard on my stomach, that taunting look on his face.

He could do anything to me.

He couldmake me come.

Gabriel tightened his grip, bent down and kissed me.

One hand was on my jaw, popping it open so he could plunder my mouth, smelling like blood and darkness, his hard body pressing me into the dark stone, kissing me so hard I felt blood on my tongue.

I shoved against his chest. It was like trying to move a stone statue, as heat flickered between my thighs.

“I wish I’d stabbed you in the gut,” I said through gritted teeth as I wrenched away from him.

“Do you think that would stop me?” he asked curiously, cocking his head like he was a fucking massive velociraptor contemplating a worm, and then he wrapped my fingers around the dripping pen knife and stabbed himself in the gut.

I shrieked. Then screamed again, so hard I couldn’t hear myself.

“Why did youdothat?”

“I wanted to see what it would feel like.”

I tried to drop the knife, but he wouldn’t let me, his grip tightening painfully on my own.

He reached down with one hand to his gut and raised his fingers, wet with his own blood.

“Only made me want to fuck you more,” he said, in such a cold, clinical tone that I screamed again.

There were dozens of other people in this awful manor. Where were they? Why did no one ever hear me?

Logically, I knew the blow hadn’t killed him.

But the way he had done it merely as—some kind of depraved experiment—terrified me.

His fingers wrapped around my waist, slipping under my shirt to smear blood all over my skin.

“You’re a clever girl, you know that? That’s why it’s so fun to play with you.”

“Let me go!” I gritted out.

“No. Beg for mercy or I’ll punish you.”

“Mercy? From you? I don’t think you’re capable of it!” I said.

He chuckled.

“That’s not begging,” he smirked.

Then he put one hand on my blouse and wrapped his big fingers around my belt loops and threw me out the fourth-floor window.

I screamed bloody murder, my hands flailing helplessly in the air, and I began to plummet as the manor grounds swam before my eyes—the gnarled blighted trees, the stagnant dead pond, the crooked gravestones stretched out in the distance.

The air swallowed up my screams, and I began to tumble sideways, down to those sharp stones I knew were waiting there, ready to kill me, when I suddenly landed with a jarring thump on the straw roof of a small barn.

The hell!

For a minute I had to catch my breath as the scratchy straw dug into my throat.