The inveterate praise being showered on her was slowing changing from innocuous obsession to titillating perversion. She demurred, "It can not be a la transient showers at noon."
He had laced his voice with tantalizing subtlety, and used his signature charm to the fullest. It hid well his vicious notoriety.
He was never a dilettante, always a consummate hound, waiting in wings to scupper. Only this time, it required some more planning.
He pushed. He needed that force. Instantly, the floor turned red. She could not scream even. He had tied her all over. It was premeditated, calculated, and cold blooded.
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