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‘What time is it?’ she groaned. ‘Who knows,’ he said, his dimples carving deep crevices beside his mouth as he managed to slip his fingers between her loosening thighs. She was already slick and swollen. ‘Who cares? I want you now, and if the state of your sweet little pussy is any indication, you want me too.’ Jess’s moan was from growing arousal rather than frustration. Her breathing accelerated as his fingers grew bolder, exploring her throbbing outer folds before forging inside to be welcomed by her slick heat. She hummed with pleasure, grasping his hand to push his fingers deeper. He played inside her like a virtuoso with his instrument, plucking a symphony of gasps, sighs and groans from her as she squirmed with delight. Jess groped behind her and found him, stroking him with clever fingers, proving herself to be equally talented. Nick relished each soft caress, each firm stroke of her hand upon him. He stood the sweet torture for as long as possible before capturing her wrist. It had been a long day and shed come home late, throwing PJs on and sitting down to watch an old sitcom, ignoring the tousled hair and smudged make up that she would usually fix so carefully before heading to work. What did it matter? No one would see her, and she was too tired to even notice. As her hand reached to turn off the light, she headed for the stairs, but had barely taken a couple of steps through the darkened room before she detected some slight movement and began to turn. It was too late though, and a cloth was held firmly against her face. As she scrabbled at the attacker, she had time to notice how surprisingly smooth their hands were, and how muscly their arms. The first few seconds felt more like a struggle, but the gasp she had taken as the hand covered her mouth meant she had inhaled enough to make her head swim. The last thing she felt was dizzying fear as her vision darkened even further, and she slipped to the ground. One of the black-clad men supported her as.
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