(WESLEY)
I am so engrossed in the moment that I don't notice that he's tugged my pants off. I'm only aware of that fact after he slips his hand inside the waistbands and pushes it down to my hips, letting gravity take care of the rest of the way. He pauses, eyeing the ankle holster and gun on my leg. He gently unhooks the clasp of the holster and carefully places the gun on the nightstand then glances over my naked body, giving me a head-to-toe appraisal, a small smile curving on his lips when his gaze returns to mine.
Now would be the right time to run for the door. That would be the most logical thing to do now, instead, I gaze back at him and feel weak kneed. I know for a fact that wasn't a simple appreciation look he just gave me. That is an unspoken promise of every wretched torturous thing that he is planning to do to me. My heart is pounding with anticipation at the prospect of having sex instead of being resigned to it.
