Anne Rice - v1, Lasher

She watched afraid and then he struck the man and

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Unformatted text preview: loose its wrinkles and land on the bed. She was slipping and the water was rising to her shoulders. Once again she tried to use her arms; she pushed and pushed against the tile and managed to sit forward. He stood over her. He had taken off his heavy coat. He was dressed in a simple turtleneck sweater, and as always he looked alarmingly thin. But he was strong and stalwart in his thinness, with none of the twisted neurotic apology of the very lanky and the underfed and the overgrown. His hair was so long now it covered his shoulders. It was as black as Michael's hair, and the longer it became the looser its curl, LASHER so that it was now almost wavy. In the steam from the tub, the hair at his temples curled somewhat, and she could see a glistening sheen on his seemingly poreless skin as he bent down again to caress her. He steadied her against the back of the tub. He lifted his little knife-Oh dare she try to get hold of it!-and he cut loose her soiled panties, and pulled them up out of the b...
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