Her strike didn't work. He grabbed her arm, ripping the knife out. Snarling Amy twisted in his grip. There was no way she was going to let him beat her again. Her ears flattened back, listening to him snap at her. I'm the whore? I'm not the one that's all heated up from a single touch! Alright, so she was fairly sensitive at the moment. That did not mean that she was a whore. She had control, and she chose her lovers with care. This was not going to be one of them.
Drawn in close to him Amy bared her teeth, listening to him speak. I'm not up for grabs, you filthy piece of trash. She was not going to be taken by him. She wasn't afraid. Her pride didn't leave room for that. There were only a handful of times that she'd been afraid. When the Anathema medical wacko had almost made her deaf, when her brother had murdered her sister, and when she'd taken her first kill. This wouldn't be one of them.
Oh, this was beyond disgusting. She could feel the debris from his travels trailing over her body as he attempted to charm her. A single finger stroked her folds, and she snapped. Her jaws lunged up to grab at his face. Bringing her in so close to his wasn't such a good idea, giving her a nice little gap to go for the jugular. Her aim was slightly below that, planning on cracking his jaw. At the same time she kicked out with her leg, raising it to can him.
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