9: THEY'RE ALL DEVILS

PEBBLES' POV

Sardines and eggs. That was what the devil's kiss tasted like. His lavishly applied aftershave plagued my nostrils with its putrid, citrusy scent.

With his tongue still embedded down my throat, he used his hands to grope my breasts, squeezing and pinching at my bosoms. His dent in his pants pressed painfully against my jeans covered thighs. I thrashed around as a sign of protest to his vulgar behaviour. He let out a deep and malignant chuckle against my lips. “You taste so good. I wonder if you will feel as sweet as you taste?” He withdrew his tongue as he held eye contact. His black pupils swirled in the dim lighting of the small closet. I saw the endless depths of evil and darkness in his cold soul through his eyes.

His hands left my chest. The left hand trailed its way lower until it stopped at my waist, while the right hand held the knife, running the sharp tip down the front of my blouse, ripping it down the middle. ”I bet you have never been fucked by a real man," hi