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Authors: Deception at Midnight
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he offered mildly, as if they were not discussing an abomination.
She tried to school her expression—and her growing sense of horror. Surely he was just teasing her—one of his nasty ‘jests’ that he so delighted in inflicting on her. What a fool she had been to think they were sharing a companionable chat!
“I-I do not know quite what to say. I am overwhelmed...” she began.
“Then you’ll consider it?” he asked eagerly.
“No! That is, I cannot marry you, John! We are cousins, after all—”
“Only by marriage, for God’s sake! We are no more than stepcousins by law,” he interrupted. “There’s no real consanguinity!”
“Oh, I know. That’s not what I mean! I mean, I don’t think of you that way. You are a cousin to me, we were raised like brother and sister. I couldn’t...be that way with you. I couldn’t possibly be a wife to you!” She was blushing furiously.
“You mean you have no desire to go to bed with me, don’t you?”
His voice was deceptively mild. She nodded slowly, her eyes locked with his, trapped by the sudden venom she saw reflected there.
He leaped up with a swiftness that belied his bulk and crossed the short distance between them in two long strides. “Perhaps you just don’t know what desire is. Perhaps you need to be shown just how delightful I can be between your long, lovely legs!”
He seized her roughly, pulling her to her feet. Pinning her arms to her sides, he towered over her and bent his face down to hers. His large, wet lips locked on hers and she felt as if the breath were being sucked from her. Cruelly, his teeth bit into her lower lip.
As she gasped with pain, he stuck his tongue into her mouth, running it over her tongue and her teeth, ramming it to the back of her throat until she thought she would retch. As his left arm held her pinned, motionless, his right hand moved to her breast where he ripped at the flimsy cotton bodice, exposing her nipple. He kneaded it roughly for a few seconds while she writhed and pushed against him to free herself.
Her mouth still covered, her screams died in her throat. She could feel his knee pushing at her skirt between her legs. The man was bent on rape! He would ruin her! As she struggled, she felt her legs give way and he pushed her down to the floor, knocking over the small table next to them. The decanter and glasses fell to the carpet. She lay with her head near the spilled brandy.
Holding her prisoner beneath his massive body, John freed his left hand and placed it tightly over her mouth. He moved his head down and seized her nipple in his teeth, biting hard. The more she fought him, the more excited he seemed to become. He wrenched her jaw as she tried to bite at his hand, and he gave a shiver of excitement as she cried out in pain.
“You will marry me!” he hissed in her ear. “You will have to when I finish with you!” His knee jabbed harder between her legs to emphasize his words.
Rigid with terror, Maude considered desperately if there were any way at all to fight him off. She rejected reasoning with him outright. He was frenzied with passion and past rational thought. He wrenched wildly at her skirts; she could hear the material ripping. At last he found what he had obviously sought so desperately. His hand fumbled with her underthings, between her legs. The horror of his touch was overwhelming!
As he reared back to view his handiwork, she brought her own knee up hard, slamming him between the legs. He screamed in pain and rolled to the side, just as her hand closed on the neck of the decanter which lay on the carpet within her grasp.
With rage in his eyes and his hands outstretched for her throat, he lunged toward her. She brought the decanter up and with all her strength, slammed it against the side of his head. Crystal shards flew everywhere, cutting Maude’s face, her hands. From slitted eyes, she could see that a hideous red gash now ran from the corner of John’s eye to his mouth,
She tried to school her expression—and her growing sense of horror. Surely he was just teasing her—one of his nasty ‘jests’ that he so delighted in inflicting on her. What a fool she had been to think they were sharing a companionable chat!
“I-I do not know quite what to say. I am overwhelmed...” she began.
“Then you’ll consider it?” he asked eagerly.
“No! That is, I cannot marry you, John! We are cousins, after all—”
“Only by marriage, for God’s sake! We are no more than stepcousins by law,” he interrupted. “There’s no real consanguinity!”
“Oh, I know. That’s not what I mean! I mean, I don’t think of you that way. You are a cousin to me, we were raised like brother and sister. I couldn’t...be that way with you. I couldn’t possibly be a wife to you!” She was blushing furiously.
“You mean you have no desire to go to bed with me, don’t you?”
His voice was deceptively mild. She nodded slowly, her eyes locked with his, trapped by the sudden venom she saw reflected there.
He leaped up with a swiftness that belied his bulk and crossed the short distance between them in two long strides. “Perhaps you just don’t know what desire is. Perhaps you need to be shown just how delightful I can be between your long, lovely legs!”
He seized her roughly, pulling her to her feet. Pinning her arms to her sides, he towered over her and bent his face down to hers. His large, wet lips locked on hers and she felt as if the breath were being sucked from her. Cruelly, his teeth bit into her lower lip.
As she gasped with pain, he stuck his tongue into her mouth, running it over her tongue and her teeth, ramming it to the back of her throat until she thought she would retch. As his left arm held her pinned, motionless, his right hand moved to her breast where he ripped at the flimsy cotton bodice, exposing her nipple. He kneaded it roughly for a few seconds while she writhed and pushed against him to free herself.
Her mouth still covered, her screams died in her throat. She could feel his knee pushing at her skirt between her legs. The man was bent on rape! He would ruin her! As she struggled, she felt her legs give way and he pushed her down to the floor, knocking over the small table next to them. The decanter and glasses fell to the carpet. She lay with her head near the spilled brandy.
Holding her prisoner beneath his massive body, John freed his left hand and placed it tightly over her mouth. He moved his head down and seized her nipple in his teeth, biting hard. The more she fought him, the more excited he seemed to become. He wrenched her jaw as she tried to bite at his hand, and he gave a shiver of excitement as she cried out in pain.
“You will marry me!” he hissed in her ear. “You will have to when I finish with you!” His knee jabbed harder between her legs to emphasize his words.
Rigid with terror, Maude considered desperately if there were any way at all to fight him off. She rejected reasoning with him outright. He was frenzied with passion and past rational thought. He wrenched wildly at her skirts; she could hear the material ripping. At last he found what he had obviously sought so desperately. His hand fumbled with her underthings, between her legs. The horror of his touch was overwhelming!
As he reared back to view his handiwork, she brought her own knee up hard, slamming him between the legs. He screamed in pain and rolled to the side, just as her hand closed on the neck of the decanter which lay on the carpet within her grasp.
With rage in his eyes and his hands outstretched for her throat, he lunged toward her. She brought the decanter up and with all her strength, slammed it against the side of his head. Crystal shards flew everywhere, cutting Maude’s face, her hands. From slitted eyes, she could see that a hideous red gash now ran from the corner of John’s eye to his mouth,
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