“Will, stop.” It wasn’t Terrance but Sophia. Even after three years in their service, he was still becoming accustomed to his new masters. They could hear everything in the house and they were as fast as ghosts, appearing in one room and then another. He had learned quickly to do as they asked, when they asked, because they always knew if he didn’t. “Go back to your book.”
“No,” he said, not taking his eyes off the woman before him. “This is what you want, isn’t it, whore?” He stepped closer, squeezing her cheeks and deforming her mouth. “You want me to fuck you savagely while I tear out your hair, twist off your nipples.”
“William,” Sophia said again, an air of command.
“No, wait.” This time it was Nicholas. Were they all going to watch him? Not that he particularly cared, but it would increase the woman’s shame.
“Yes,” she said, tears leaking from her eyes. “Please, sir.”
Marsha Cook hosted me and other NNP authors on her show last night. Check it out.
