Desiree
My breathing hitching. He knows I lied. He always knows when I lie.
"Little one," He clicks sadly. "I've told you not to lie to me."
"It's the truth—"
He cups my breasts, putting his face in my neck.
"Don't make this worse, little one." He rasps, letting his hand drift down my middle.
"W-what are you going to do to me?"
"What do you think I'm going to do to you, Desiree?"
I swallow roughly. "Hurt me?"
He chuckled lowly. "Worse. I'm going to pleasure you,"
What? No. No!
"Are you scared? I'll make you feel good, love. You know I can, don't you?" He strokes my cheek.
What's he going to do to me? I should've just told him the truth!
I just...I don't talk about feelings. I don't think about feeling. I don't feel.
It's nothing but trouble.
His hand smoothes down my midrift
