The hot tips of her breasts brush my chest. The smell of her like clover, like musk, like ripe apples fallen to the ground ...And there is no hesitati...n. No doubt. I know exactly what to do. My hands are on the back of her neck. Brushing her face. Tangled in her hair. Sliding along the smooth length of her thigh. Grabbing her hard by the flank. Circling her narrow waist. Lifting her. Laying her down ...And she writhes beneath me, lithe and languorous. Slow and sighing. Her legs around me. Her. In slow motion she looked down at her breast and the growing crimson patch.When she looked back up at them the change the cut had wreaked on her was evident on her face.Her defiance and arrogance had vanished.Her bottom lip twitched and tears filled her eyes.A cloud of fear overcame her and she wailed loudly.Michael glanced at Jason.The guy was unstable,gripping the scalpel menacingly and visibly shaking.......''Listen,kid.Be a good girl and get up on that table.Youn need stitches.'' Michael. More

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