Belle - Lesley Pearse [203]
Belle’s heart sank. She looked into his eyes and instead of the cold, dead look she’d noticed the first time she met him, she saw the same kind of madness she’d seen in Faldo’s eyes that last night with him. She hadn’t handled Faldo very well, even though she had felt some affection for him, but she loathed Pascal and the thought of him touching her again made her flesh crawl.
‘It takes time and patience for love to grow,’ she said carefully, very aware now of the knife in his hand. It was only six inches long, with a thin blade, but it looked very sharp. ‘Locking me up without food or drink isn’t the way to make love happen.’
‘In that case I’ll settle for the pretend love you show your clients,’ he said, licking his lips lasciviously as he stared at her.
She had been so intent on drinking and eating that she’d forgotten about her ripped dress and her exposed breasts. A cold shudder went down her spine and she tried to cover herself.
‘There’s no need to cover them up,’ he said. ‘I like looking at them. And I know how passionate you are with your clients. Many of them reported back to me.’
Just his oily voice, let alone what he was saying, was enough for her stomach to churn. She couldn’t do it with him, she couldn’t bear it.
‘But you don’t want me like this,’ she said, backing away from him in horror. ‘I’m dirty – let me have a wash and some clean clothes first.’
‘I don’t mind you dirty,’ he said, moving towards her and reaching out to touch her right breast. ‘It’s a reminder that you are a whore, and besides, the smell on you is from the last time I had you. I like that.’
Belle’s stomach lurched. She had always found it so easy to flirt with her clients, and to say flattering things to them to put them at their ease, even when she didn’t like them. But Pascal was so deeply repulsive to her that she couldn’t even attempt to switch on those well-practised lines, not even now when she knew her life depended on being what he wanted her to be.
‘Take off your clothes,’ he said when she made no response. ‘Every stitch. I want to see you naked.’
She felt the way she had with that first man at Madame Sondheim’s, stark, cold terror washing over her. But he was brandishing the knife and instinct told her he wouldn’t hesitate to cut her.
Reluctantly she began to strip. Her dress was so damaged that it slid to the floor easily. She untied the waist of her petticoat and let that drop too till she was standing in just her chemise. He’d ripped off her drawers downstairs, days ago, and she’d taken off her stockings soon after she was locked in. She really couldn’t bear to take off the last garment, even though it was so torn it didn’t cover much.
‘And that,’ he said, and stepped forward, putting the knife against the shoulder straps and cutting first one, then the other, in two quick movements. The chemise fell to the floor.
‘On the bed,’ he said, and still holding the knife in his hand, he pulled off his jacket, tossed it to one side, flicked his braces off his shoulders and began unbuttoning his trousers.
There was nothing she could do but comply. His trousers were around his feet now, his shirt nearly reaching his bony knees, and his black socks were held up with suspenders. He took his cock in his hand to fondle it, while looking down at her. But as he was still holding the knife in his free hand she knew she couldn’t escape what he wanted to do to her, and so she had to get it over with as quickly as possible.
‘Come and let me hold you,’ she said, trying to sound seductive, but she could hear the desperation and loathing in her voice and felt certain he could too.
‘Open your legs. Show yourself to me,’ he demanded, and leaned down and put the tip of his knife on her pubic hair.
Tears started up in her eyes. She’d been told by one of the girls at Martha’s about a girl in another sporting house who had her belly ripped open by a man and she was afraid that was what Pascal intended to do.
She felt she had to do the lewd act he wanted, and held the lips of her vagina apart for him to see her.
‘Did you do that for Le