"Do you like that little pet?" Azrael snickers, curling his fingers deeper inside me now, as though somehow that might heighten my pleasure despite being in the hands of the creature I loath more than death itself. "Who would have thought that the esteemed bride of Soren is nothing more than a common place whore? I knew you would crack under the pleasure, everyone does my lovely little thing."
Biting the inside of my cheek to force down the bile that swells in my throat, I manage to force out another small, whimpery moan like the 'commonplace whore' that Azrael thinks I am. To say I am not revolted by his mindset, and more to the point, by him in general, would be the biggest lie in the history of lies.
But I have time to buy, and if that means I have to put my dignity on the line and pretend to like what he is doing to me for five more minutes, so be it. I have had worse. Most prominently, being called his wife.
