The Game

He reaches out
She cowers and stumbles
He quickly grabs both her hands pulling her into his arms
She feels a chill run down her spine
He breathes down her neckline
She struggles to escape
His hands cold, his grip tightens
“look at me” a harsh whisper escapes his lips
Trembling and gasping for air she meets his eyes
“You will be the death of me” her mind screams but her eyes refused to move from his face
A cold smile shapes on his deformed face knowing he had won
She feels the world spinning around her, “please don’t” she begs
The glistening predator eyes raked over her body
He fingers trace the mark – his mark
He travels from the puffy cheeks to the swan neck
She has gone too far again, too far to stop this
She despises her weaknesses, her body is on fire
Like a fish out of water she reaches out to him to save her
He knows what she needs but he loves to see her wither
She knows he will pick her apart like a porcelain doll
She whimpers, he laughs
She gropes as she falls on the floor
He enjoys this just as much as his last whisky shot at the bar every night
She says what he wants to hear “pleee..please”
He bends down and viciously claims what was his all along.
Her

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