When she opened her eyes again, she felt momentarily nauseous. He lay between her legs and she seemed to burn from her knees to her breasts. She squirmed beneath his great body and the warm, wet sloshing in her belly registered. Fear gripped her. Oh, my God… He'd emptied his foul loins into her while she was unconscious. She felt it, like a pool of seething lava. It swirled in the depths of her belly. She stared up at him and he grinned simperingly down at her.

"I'm not mad if you're not," he said.

Dear God, how she'd like to plunge a knife into his heart. She said nothing, only turned her face from him. His hands were on her breasts, clutching and manipulating, rolling the nipples between his thumbs and forefingers endeavoring to harden and distend them. He dropped his drooling lips onto one and sucked. She sensed his tongue, a maddening vortex of sensation she couldn't ignore. Wild little flurries flittered through her belly. She writhed and simultaneously felt again the growing of his cock between her helpless thighs.

"Haven't you had enough rape for one night?" she threw at him.

He chuckled. "You vixen… you almost had me fooled," he said, slipping his hand down between the open lips of her cunt. He let a fingertip steal up and taunt her clitoris, the nail only grazing against it… enough to send overpowering paroxysmal sensations rippling through her.

"Oooohhhh," she moaned uncontrollably.

Karl Fletcher laughed aloud. "This time, we're both going to enjoy it, darling."