‘Only you made me lose my temper, and—’ ‘I made you do so? Pah!’ Gerald at last succeeded in ripping the handkerchief from her grasp, and swiftly held it to her neck, oblivious to her now bloodied fingers clawing at his hand. She could not keep herself from reaching orgasm, and could barely contain the desire to claw him as she came and her canines expanded. An enormous Hand that rose up swiftly, blotting out the sky. He was completely, devastatingly handsome. Her whole conduct and tone had been modest and ladylike. His bodily suffering, however, was nothing compared with his mental anguish. You go home and live on the G.
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