His masked face twists back an inch as he releases my nipple, squeezing the other breast for a moment to send more milk shooting in strings through the air. Then he yanks me around by my hair, the slick rubber of the Grinch face brushing my cheek as his other hand shoves me back toward my bed.
“Sweet.” He slurps as he manhandles me into position.
He’s a mountain under all the black clothing, even I can see that. My mind scrambles, survival instinct and fear lacing with the desire I can’t quell.
Just play along. Play nice. You’re only doing what has to be done.
The grandfather clock in the foyer downstairs starts to chime, the muffled sound reminding me of how alone I am here. The house staff are all relieved until after New Year. How long can this go on? How long can I survive and fight for my life and my baby?
My protruding belly shines in the light as he presses the flat of his hand to my chest, pushing me down onto the mattress.
“Merry Christmas,” I force out as the twelfth chime signals the passing of the day.
He snarls, knocking my words aside with a meaty palm back on my throat, pushing me into position on the bed. With my legs dangling over the edge, I can’t find any leverage that might help me. “No one here to celebrate but you and me, pretty thing,” he growls through his Grinch grin, voice deranged and mocking. “That road up Mount Crumpit will be impassable for days.”
I thrash, nails raking his forearm, but his grip is iron. His tongue flicks against my jawline, his lips like icy December kisses, trailing down to my collarbone as my heart races and my belly flutters.
With his other hand, he jams his knuckles against my opening, grinding in slow circles. “So sloppy. You want this. Admit it. Say you want Grinchy to fuck you, Cindy Lou. You want him to stuff this log up your juicy little chimney. So fucking sexy, all sugarplum plump and pregnant. Just too bad it’s not my baby. I’ll have to come back when I can breed you myself. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
I stutter as I lock onto the eyeholes, his black eyes glinting like devil’s coal.
“I want you to fuck me,” I whimper, forcing myself to give him whatever he wants to end this horrifying night.
“Show me you mean it. Spread wider.”
I kick wildly when his knee jams between my thighs, but he only laughs, my scream dying under his calloused palm.
“You’ll be begging for Grinch dick for the rest of your life. That toy of yours is just that, a toy, not like this.” The knife tip pokes right on my clit, forcing my hips to buck as I yelp against the sting of pain.
His other hand drops to his groin, working his pants until he drags the dark fabric off his hips to his thighs, his erection springing free. And, God help me, I draw all the air from the room.
It’s not just the size, it’s…the color. The flesh is tinted…green. The phallus as long and thick as my forearm, bobbing out of the opening of his pants like a monster, seeping at the tip as he fists the root, making the crown turn a deep purple under the hint of green on the smooth skin.
My opening floods with welcoming warmth, and I stop asking myself what’s wrong with me. I swear, I’ll go see the campus therapy department as soon as I get back to school. If I make it back to school, that is.
I thought I had my life pretty planned out. First pre-law, then law school, then an internship with some high-level politician. Make contacts in Washington, return to Montana to see my parents glowing with pride thinking I’m going to take some juicy offer from a swanky firm then, field their disapproval when I settle in as a public defender to represent those that don’t have the deep pockets to hire an A player when they need it the most.
I was never the girl that longed for a boyfriend I didn’t see myself naturally as a wife or mother. But we make choices sometimes in weak moments, and they light the treasure map of life on fire, forcing us to make other plans.
But I never saw tonight coming.
“Shame you’re not fighting harder,” he snarls, the fingers of his free hand bruising my hips as he drags the back of the knife blade up my mound, then flings it across the room, sticking it into the wall with a sharp crack. “But you love being the Grinch’s little cock slave, don’t you, Cindy Lou? A dirty little Christmas whore just for me.”
He draws back as I nod, unable to deny it, squeezing my eyes shut as he lands a hard open palm on my spread folds.
I yelp.
“Stop!” I shout, but my mind screams,more of that. More of whatever this is.
My vision blurs as he delivers more wet slaps, again and again. Until white-hot sparks glint in my vision as I open my eyes, decorating that horrible mask with white twinkling lights.
My bed puts me at the perfect height for him to line up with my pulsing opening. “I’m forcing my way in there, whether you like it or not, Cindy Lou. Makes no difference to me, fight makes it so much sweeter.”
He works the buttons on his black shirt, peeling it away and dropping it to the floor, before toeing each of his boots off his feet and kicking them aside. He strips his pants the rest of the way off, my eyes locked on his naked body in the colored light.
My mouth is dry as I let my gaze trace every taut, bulging muscle. But it’s still that green-tinted cock that draws my attention, with finger-sized veins that snake around the shaft, and a head as big as my fist.
I swallow hard as he steps forward, a hand rising again, and I brace for the slap between my legs. But instead, he palms mybelly, rubbing in circles as he lazily strokes himself, staring down at me and tutting.
