[/html]He could smell her fear fill the air and it was like a sweet scent egging him on. Fear was so horribly wonderful, especially when it was wafting off a woman like this. Gregor was a complete chauvinist and believed completely that females were lesser than males. They were on this earth to serve the whims and pleasures of men, and those who felt they were better needed a sharp lesson. He could tell this painted girl was one of those. Luckily for her, Gregor knew just how to break women of such unbecoming notions of themselves.
When he felt his thick fingers get a grip on her hair and saw her head yank back a surge of satisfaction surged through him, though one would not have known it by his outward appearance. His face wore a constant stoney expression and the only times that changed were when he felt extreme rage. Then his visage morphed into a terrible mask of fury. Here and now there, the only thing to hint at his feelings was a look of slight amusement in his eyes. She called to be released and he sincerely hoped that none had heard her cry—he did not want to be interrupted. This one had fight in her, for she turned and began to claw at his wrist. The Mountain would end that quickly enough. His free hand pulled back and delivered a sharp and brutal backhanded strike across her face.
| Messages In This Thread |