Page 36 of Vile Pucker

When I came to, he was still going.

“Another,” he ordered in a gloating voice, and I knew my body would obey him, would obey even with every cell afire with agony.

When we were done, I lay limply on the bed, feeling like my orgasm had wrung all the moisture from my body as I watched Gabriel walk around the apartment naked.

“Come shower with me.”

“What? Why?”

“Come use those pretty lips and talk to me.”

“Why? No!” I said pettishly, and he suddenly turned and loomed over me, reaching for my throat and yanking me closer.

“Because I want to hear your voice, that’s why.”

“Why me?” was all I could ask.

Why was I the object of your dangerous and unholy obsession?

“I like how you look,” was all would give me. “I like how you sound, too.”

And that was all I got, all the explanation for why he listened unblinkingly to everything I said, insisted on having me next to him at all times. . .

My ass was extremely sore as we went downstairs.

There were so many dark hallways leading off the main one. . . surely, somehow, I could find a way to escape.

I tried to test it a bit as we wound our way around a staircase, quickly going a few steps ahead of Gabriel.

The shadows were so deep. . . I could melt into them. . .

But before I had even put a toe into the densely carpeted floor, I felt a hard hand on my neck and I was being yanked back onto Gabriel’s chest.

“What are you doing?” he growled, burying his other hand in my long hair so that his fingers spanned my scalp.

“Just walking downstairs.”

“Walk downstairs next to me in future.”

“The moment I get a chance,” I said coldly. “I’ll be gone.”

He snapped his hips forward so I felt the rub of the belt on my back.

“Want to feel this on your ass? Then you better behave.”

“But I need to go get Plan B! After last night!”

“Why?”

“You didn’t use a condom!”

“And?”

“And I don’t want to get pregnant,” I hissed angrily.

“ButIwant you to get pregnant.”

“You cannot be serious!” my heart fluttered desperately. “I’m 38 years old! You’re 22. You don’t want a baby,” I tried to reason with him. “That would get in the way of going out to clubs and with your douchebag friends picking up women.”