I heard the bottle hit the porch floor as his hands found my waist. His right hand roamed up my back and into my hair. I felt him wrap his hand around...my ponytail and tug my hair. My head tilted, giving him deeper access for his tongue to plunge and explore. The moan that slipped out of me added heat to his kiss. I knew my lips were going to be swollen and red when we finally broke this kiss. My hand stayed fisted in his shirt, anchoring myself to this moment. My hips ground against his and I. This far north, discipline had fallen to the side and the men were acting more like robbers and murderers than trained troops. The priest that was with them was a short, wiry man who was bloodthirsty, calling for the death of all men who stood in their way, and the taking of the women for pleasure or slavery. He was not above the use of these women himself, preferring those girls that had barely started their menses. He took particular joy in hearing their screams as he violated them. Even. More

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