“Stop.” But he couldn’t. She used the toe of her boot to push his hand away, then trod on his wrist. He wanted to obey, but he couldn’t help his struggle. She pressed harder, hurting him, imprisoning him. When he calmed a little bit, she released him.
“Again,” she commanded, and looked at him, all slack-jawed and hungry —an animal. A helpless animal. Her helpless animal. Her helpless animal was about to come again. “Stop.” She had to press her foot down harder this time. “Again.” The intervals grew closer. “Stop.” His arm jerked so convulsively that she had to kneel down, take his wrist, hold it. Her body was close to his, her eyes locked to his. He could smell her perfume. He could get a glimpse of her cleavage. He could see her tight, short skirt riding high on her stockinged thigh.
An
