The Becoming

Chapter Four

Donaldson is on top of me, holding my arms at my side. Are you awake? I want you awake. It's no fun otherwise.
I hear the voice from inside my head. I think it's a trick, that I'm dreaming or still unconscious.
But the voice comes again.
Come on, Anna. I know you can hear me. We've had an unintentional exchange of bodily fluids. My bad. But you won't have to endure this long. Open your eyes. Look at me.
I don't want to. I try to keep them closed, actually squeeze them tight with all my strength, but my eyes open anyway. I turn my head to avoid looking at Donaldson, but steel fingers take my chin and force my face upward.
That's a good girl. No, don't try to fight. You can't fight me. Just look into my eyes. Do you like what you see?
Yellow eyes, slit like a cat's, stare down.
And something else. A snarling mouth with tiny, pointed teeth.
I start to scream, struggle again to break free.
Donaldson just laughs. His hands are everywhere-on my breasts, between my legs, tearing open the collar of my blouse, exposing my neck.
I do the only thing I can. I bite him again and again, feel the skin on his cheek and neck tear, taste the copper of his blood in my mouth.
It doesn't seem to faze him. He bunches up my skirt, opens his pants and pushes against me. His mouth is hot on my neck, his teeth pinch and tear and finally break through.
Everything changes.
His hardness electrifies me. I feel a thrill of arousal.
No.
I don't want this.
"Yes, you do," he answers as if I've spoken it aloud.
Then he's inside me, filling me, driving me to the brink.
A moan escapes my lips. I arch up to meet him, using my legs around his waist to lock him to me, using my hands to clasp his head tight against my neck. I lap and suck hungrily at the blood dripping from his cheek. My body vibrates with liquid fire.
I don't want it to stop. Any of it. I can't get enough.