Master of the Game by Sidney Sheldon

“The truth?”

“Yes.”

“It’s very personal.”

She waited.

“I was busy persuading a young lady not to commit suicide.” He said it matter-of-factly, as though it were a common occurrence.

“I hope you succeeded.”

“For now. I hope you’re not the suicidal type.”

“No. I hope you’re not.”

George Mellis laughed aloud. “I love you,” he said. “I really love you.” He took Eve’s arm, and his touch made her shiver.

 

 

He stayed at Eve’s side all evening, and he was totally attentive to her, oblivious to everyone else. He had long, delicate hands, and they were constantly doing things for Eve: bringing her a drink, lighting her cigarette, touching her discreetly. His nearness set her body afire, and she could not wait to be alone with him.

Just after midnight when the guests began to retire to their rooms, George Mellis asked, “Which is your bedroom?”

“At the end of the north hall.”

He nodded, his long-lashed eyes boring into hers.

 

 

Eve undressed and bathed and put on a new sheer, black negligee that clung to her figure. At one A.M. there was a discreet tap on the door. She hurried to open it, and George Mellis stepped in.

He stood there, his eyes filled with admiration. “Matia mou, you make the Venus de Milo look like a hag.”

“I have an advantage over her,” Eve whispered. “I have two arms.”

And she put both arms around George Mellis and drew him to her. His kiss made something explode inside her. His lips pressed hard against hers, and she felt his tongue exploring her mouth.

“Oh, my God!” Eve moaned.

He started to strip off his jacket, and she helped him. In a moment he was free of his trousers and French shorts, and he was naked before her. He had the most glorious physique Eve had ever seen. He was hard and erect.

“Quick,” Eve said. “Make love to me.” She moved onto the bed, her body on fire.

He commanded, “Turn over. Give me your ass.”

She looked up at him. “I—I don’t—”

And he hit her on the mouth. She stared up at him in shock.

“Turn over.”

“No.”

He hit her again, harder, and the room began to swim in front of her.

“Please, no.”

He hit her again, savagely. She felt his powerful hands turning her over, pulling her up on her knees.

“For God’s sake,” she gasped, “stop it! I’ll scream.”

He smashed his arm across the back of her neck, and Eve started to lose consciousness. Dimly, she felt him raise her hips higher into the air. He pulled her cheeks apart, and his body pressed against hers. There was a sudden, excruciating pain as he plunged deep inside her. She opened her mouth to scream, but she stopped in terror of what he might do to her.

She begged, “Oh, please, you’re hurting me…”

She tried to pull away from him, but he was holding her hips tightly, plunging into her again and again, tearing her apart with his enormous penis. The pain was unbearable.

“Oh, God, no!” she whispered. “Stop it! Please stop it!”

He kept moving in, deeper and faster, and the last thing Eve remembered was a wild groan that came from deep inside him and seemed to explode in her ears.

When she regained consciousness and opened her eyes, George Mellis was sitting in a chair, fully dressed, smoking a cigarette. He moved over to the bed and stroked her forehead. She cringed from his touch.

“How do you feel, darling?”

Eve tried to sit up, but the pain was too great. She felt as though she had been ripped apart. “You goddamned animal…” Her voice was a ragged whisper.

He laughed. “I was gentle with you.”

She looked at him in disbelief.

He smiled. “I can sometimes be very rough.” He stroked her hair again. “But I love you, so I was kind. You’ll get used to it, Hree-se’e-moo. I promise you.”

If she had had a weapon at that moment, Eve would have killed him. “You’re insane!”

She saw the gleam that came into his eyes, and she saw his hand clench into a fist, and in that instant she knew stark terror. He was insane.