Cricket Creek Bog if lies were cats you'd be a litter

the tension as she drew close to him was palpable. he sensed it, his eye could glint on the polished blade of dread that shred her nerves; he had the hilt between his teeth. if he wanted to strike her dead, he had a slew of opportunities to pick from. alas, that was not the end he wanted for her. 
despite her misgivings about the man she tentatively straightened out her neck and stiffly--like a mannequin--clasped the plated metal between her teeth. a wheedling smile unfurled on his lips but he did not move except to lift his head, exposing her completely to the weeping contusions on his neck (the leeches had all fallen off, to her luck).
feeling her hot, shaky breath against his neck made his flesh tingle and he leaned into her solicitious orbit, thirsting for more of her warmth. but she was still fearful, and he felt the intimacy was grievously one-sided, yet. "someone has hurt you before." he remarked, as though he was just noticing the brokenness of her little body. "do i remind you of them?" he murmured tenderly to her ear. "it must have been so violating, indra, for you to be this way."
he needed to peel her open, to see the vulnerability, to taste the intimacy he craved. the fright, he knew, she handed out liberally; someone else had instilled it in her mind long before he.