The arm about her was steel hard, and she felt the weapon that was placed at her heart, which thumped uncomfortably in her chest. So often as she had herself manipulated a dagger, she could not mistake the shape that pressured across her chest, or the sharp point that dug below her bosom. He watched her constantly, trapped her in corners and slept with his arms locking her like a human cage. \"You know what I like about guys, certain guys?\" Lucy looked in her direction again. ‘Home?’ ‘To your family. ’ Gerald moved to the long sofa, dusted it with elaborate care with one of its cushions, and with a gesture invited her to sit down. To that, perhaps, a large part of its satisfyingness was due.
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