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SWEET HELL [Erotic: Contemporary Romance, Multiple Sex Partners] "Nymphomaniac!" The word pounded at her, screamed in her ears, echoing over and over again. It was an ugly word--a dirty word that made her do things she knew she shouldn't. Over time her young life became ruled by this horrible disease that made her crave a man's touch. People talked, and she was shunned, but still she found herself being dragged into the dark life that she hungered for. Her heels were high, her jeans tight, and her blouses low. ...
SWEET HELL [Erotic: Contemporary Romance, Multiple Sex Partners] "Nymphomaniac!" The word pounded at her, screamed in her ears, echoing over and over again. It was an ugly word--a dirty word that made her do things she knew she shouldn't. Over time her young life became ruled by this horrible disease that made her crave a man's touch. People talked, and she was shunned, but still she found herself being dragged into the dark life that she hungered for. Her heels were high, her jeans tight, and her blouses low. Dark alleyways and the close quarters of back seats became her hiding places. She endured "Trash!" "Whore!" "Slut!" taunts hurled at her like stones. She wanted to tell them--try and make them understand, but how could she? What words could she use to explain that someone--God maybe, or was it the devil--had lit a fire and put it between her legs?
He knew of only one way to make her pay for her sins.
She was in her room packing, so he began a quick stride up the staircase and down the hall to her room. He stood silent for only a moment before he knocked softly.
"Come in," she called out.
Kitt stepped in. "I thought I'd come up and see if you needed any help."
"As a matter of fact, I could use some help with this zipper."
He walked up, turned her around and began tugging on it. He worked with it for a moment and finally got it free, sliding it all the way down her back, slowly. Kitt noticed she didn't have anything on underneath. His pulse began to pound, and heat hotter than any fire that hell could produce clenched his groin as he looked at her soft pale skin. He licked his lips. He could swear he was salivating. He couldn't resist reaching his hands into the shadowy opening and around her waist.
Feeling his hands creeping around her, Pari leaned against him with her eyes closed. His breathing became ragged as one hand lowered to her abdomen and closed around her furry mound, while the other came up and began caressing her breasts. Pari leaned her head backwards, enjoying his lips along the soft curve of her neck.
"Kitt, you know I want you, but don't start something you don't intend to finish."
He didn't answer her, just dug his fingers into her juicy canal.
"Ohhh God," she moaned as a lusty fire began to engulf her.
She felt her dress slide off, and Kitt's lips as he kissed her naked shoulders while pressing the bulk of his engorged cock against her firm little butt.
"Before you go," he whispered, his breath tickling her ear. "How about a nicelong, hot fuck?"
Her eyes flew open. She jerked away from him and whirled around, holding her dress up in front of her.
He came after her, but she ran.
"What the hell are you running from? Isn't this what you've been wanting?" He quickly grabbed her and pulled her to him.
Struggling in his grasp, she began crying, "Not like this, Kitt. This is cheap and dirty."
"Cheap and dirty is the only way you know how to do it. It's the way you've lived your life, you little slut."
"Why do you always say things to hurt me?" she sobbed. "Why?"
"Why not? Whores can't feel anything."
"Kitt, if your upset with me because of Boris--"
"Before he died, father had a private investigator looking into your past. Know what he found out? You're a dirty little nympho, Pari. Probably slept with every man from here to California. Not only do you have the stink of the Rogan men all over you, but every man you've ever known. When you were fourteen you seduced the local preacher. When your parents realized you needed professional help, you seduced your therapist, not to mention every man and kid in the county, including your goddamned uncle."
Grabbing her shoulders, he lifted her and kissed her violently, and then made a big production of bringing his hand up and wiping at his mouth as if afraid he might be contaminated. His eyes never leaving hers, he walked over to the door and opened it.
Standing in the doorway, he turned and looked back at her. "The worst part is, letting this disease turn you into a high-priced whore."
"I had to get through college, Kitt," she sobbed.
"That's no excuse. There are scholarships, places you can go for help. Grants. You chose to go through college on your back. What did you do, Pari, sleep your way up to valedictorian?"
"Kitt," Pari sobbed, "please don't do this."
"How does it feel, Pari, to know there's a man in the world that doesn't want you? You stink," he rasped, looking at her as if she were a painted up hooker on a street corner. "You're dirty, and ugly, and I wouldn't touch you with a ten foot pole." Before he closed the door, he added, "By the way, I cancelled your plane reservations. You might as well unpack, sweetheart, because you're not going anywhere. My father paid you three million dollars, and by God, you're going to earn every penny." He cruelly began counting on his fingers. "Now, let's see, we have the maid, the butler, the cook, the chauffeur, and beginning today, our very own resident whore."
When Kitt slammed out the door, Pari felt as if her heart had been ripped from her chest. She collapsed on her dress, staining the expensive material with her tears. She had struggled all her life with the fire between her legs, but couldn't have even guessed that one day it would drive away the only man she could ever love.
From somewhere far away ... somewhere in the netherworld, a sinister spirit lay in wait. Today he'd made his first appearance. His presence wasn't bold, but guarded. His words weren't forceful, but merely suggestive. With the subtle cruelty of a tyrant he had engineered the situation perfectly. He had to be cagey at first, and restrained. They couldn't know that he was around, he had to bide his time. But soon ... like a whisper in the night ... like the subtle slither of a snake ... like the silent weaving of a spider web around the captured fly he would move stealthily into their lives. Only then would they know. Only then would it become painfully clear that--Boris Rogan was back!
Posted November 19, 2010
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Posted August 14, 2011
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