Intruder
You're in bed asleep, a light breeze from your third story balcony plays gently with your hair. You feel a tickle on your cheek. Presuming it's your hair, you push away at it. Next you feel a mouth on your own, a tongue probing the part in your lips and you know that you are no longer alone. You lay absolutely still until you feel the intruder's body weight settle over yours. Perfect. Taking him by surprise with your speed, you bring your knee up into his stomach. You hear a loud grunt, feel him gasp into your mouth. You punch him in the face and roll him off you to land on the floor. You open your eyes and scramble towards your door with panicked urgency as the dark figure is already on the move again. He gets between you and the door, blocking your exit with outstretched arms. It is too dark to see his face, but you know instinctively that he is smirking.
You move toward the open lace swathed French doors to your balcony. The bright full moon illuminates the gardens below and you realize it's doing the same for the outline of your body underneath the thin white gown you're wearing. He approaches slowly, cat-like. Why not? What are your choices really? Stand and fight or plummet to your death, and you can feel him enjoying the anticipation of your fight. As he steps into the light, his familiar features take on an unnatural light blue tint. "Norman Pitlock. Why am I not surprised?"
"Maybe because you know your job well enough to know I'd come for you." He licks his lips and makes no attempt to disguised his appraisal of your ample curves. He leers, lowering his voice to a husky whisper. "Or maybe you were just praying I would find you? Knowing you'd experience the pleasure of my touch before you were dispatched."
"In your dreams Flyboy. I'd rather die."
"Oh come now Precious, would you really rather death's arms held you tonight than mine?" He grabs your wrist, and the air leaves your lungs. How did he get that close? You were watching his fiery eyes so intently you didn't realize his proximity. You try to twist out of his grip but instead he pushes you against the wall, pinning your arms over your head and stealing another kiss. He presses his body into yours, rubbing, memorizing each others shapes. He shifts his hold of your wrists to one of his hands and moves his other hand to rest against your throat, squeezing just enough to force your lips to open further so he can deepen the kiss.
Your head is swimming. If you are ever going to regain control, it has to be now. You close your eyes and slump against the wall. His hand quickly moves from your neck to your waist in an attempt to hold you up. He drops your arms to land around his neck and brings his other arm to your waist as well. You struggle to keep the smile from your face. As he begins to lift you, you casually hook your foot around his ankle and push off against the wall. Norm falls backwards, unfortunately, his grip on your waist is unexpectedly firm and you fall atop him. Norman growls in frustration as he hits the hardwood floor. You pin him as best you can, trying to center your weight firmly on his limbs. While he is squirming, you reach a hand down to his pants. As your fingers wrap around a long, hard object there, a smile comes to your lips. Norman pushes hard against you, hard enough that he's lifting you up. You pull the knife from his belt sheath and press its point against his jugular. His eyes take on a look of irritated defeat as he settles back against the floor.
"Do you yield?" Norman exhales loudly, rolling his eyes, chewing his lower lip but saying nothing. You press the blade to him as hard as you can without drawing blood. "I said, do you yield?"
"Yes I yield."
"And?"
"And, I am your slave and shall do as I'm bidden, dammit." Norman begins to pout. You throw the knife across the room, it embeds itself to the hilt in the wall. You gently kiss the knife dented flesh of Norman's neck. "How come I never get to be the Master?"
"You have to win first."
"Next time watch out."
"You say that every time. Shut-up and kiss me."
He smiles wickedly. "I obey." He leans up and assaults your mouth with his own.....
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| The character of Norman Pitlock and the movie Royce are © Paramount Home Video and Showtime Networks, Inc.. No infringement is intended and no profits are being made. |