He grabbed her hair viciously and whispered loudly into her tear-streaked face. " "Mr. She could feel his breath on her skin, every hair on her arms and neck raised in response. Knives were worse, especially when you were stabbed back and left traces of your own blood at the crime scene. She wanted him, she needed sex, but the two ideas had not formed an equation where a concrete result could be deduced. She opened one and found herself in a large untidy room set with chairs that were a little disarranged as if by an overnight meeting.
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