Page 8 of We The Depraved
Her eyes close and she seems to be shaking.
Sage seems to shrink in on herself.
“The choice is yours, of course. I won’t force you.”
Her eyes snap open then.
“I have a choice? Did I have a choice, when he was forcing his fingers inside of me at ten years old? Did I have a choice when he was climbing on top of me at thirteen.”
I take her in; maybe defeat was the wrong word.
“I’m not your father, Sage.”
“I don’t even know who the fuck you are, or why you’re in my house. I should kill you.”
I chuckle. “You could try but you would lose twice. Your sister would be dead and so would you.”
I turn then, it’s time to go. She storms out behind me and follows me all the way to the door.
“Who in the fuck do you think you are? Huh? Who in the fuck are you to come into my home and tell me that I’ll marry you?”
My hand is on the doorknob. I twist it open and then slam the door shut. I turn quickly and she shrinks back when only moments ago she had her claws ready to tear my flesh from my back. I push her up against the wall. My hard on hasn’t gone down. I’m like a teenage boy lately.
The silk nightgown she’s wearing, the thin strap slips down her arm.
Her eyes are wide, but she turns her head when I lean down.
“I could fuck you, Kitten. Right here against this wall and there would be no one to stop me. How long has it been?”
She stutters, “Whhh-hat?”
“How long has it been since you’ve enjoyed the touch of a man. Not a woman…but a man. Rough and demanding?”
She doesn’t answer and that stupid fucking spaghetti strap that has fallen from her shoulder begs to be ripped.
I listen.
With no mercy I tear the silk nightgown from her body.
Her nipples are touched by cool air and I cannot help it. My thumb flicks one of them and she gasps.
“Stop,” she says softly.
“You are so hard with others,” I tell her. “Men stand no chance and even women think you have a set of balls. But before me, Kitten, you are ….soft.”
She whips her head to meet my own.
“You terrify me,” she says.
“I have been told I have that effect on people,” I chuckle and fumble in my back pocket.
“Call my secretary….”
She takes the card from me.
“Why?”
“I want to replace your nightgown….and you need to shop for a wedding gown,” I tell her.
