“Maybe I’ll make you suck it to make it feel better,” he said, grabbing himself. “Would you like that, you fucking whore?” He reached down and squeezed her breast hard, pinching her nipple until she gave another cry of pain. He laughed. “Shall we see what my cock looks like with that pretty mouth wrapped around it?”

Revulsion surged up the back of her throat. She’d heard mention of such intimacies before, but it still shocked—and repulsed—her. He repulsed her. Her head throbbed with pain, but she managed, “You will sooner feel the bite of my teeth.”

Her threat only amused him. “I see you have more spirit than you used to. I’ve always liked a lass with a little spirit, makes breaking them more exciting.”

Joan’s head felt like it was splitting apart. She could barely think beyond the pain, but she knew she had to do something. She shifted to try to roll him off her, but her movements were awkward and slow, and he had no problem stopping her.

She was rewarded for her efforts with another blow to the side of the head that made the lights start to flash again.

She tried to scream, but her crushed lungs couldn’t find the air, and he only laughed at her efforts.

She could barely hear his taunts now; his voice sounded so far away with the ringing in her head. “I doubt you’d be much good with your mouth the way you are right now. Nay, this time, I’ll have to settle for that tight glove between your legs.” He laughed. “Although maybe it’s not so tight anymore? Shame that I didn’t get a chance to break you in a little more before I left.”

Joan was going to be sick. Do something, a voice cried. But the voice was small and weak.

She felt air on her legs, and then a rough, callused hand tried to spread her legs.

“No!” she cried. A moment of clarity permeated the haze of confusion.

He was too occupied with trying to shove himself between her legs to hit her again.

Her head cleared a little more as the realization of what was happening caused her primitive instincts to flare.

Fight! You have to fight back. You have to try. Think . . .

But instinct was stronger than thought. He loosened his hold on her hands pinned above her head to try to fit himself between her legs, giving her an opening, and she reacted.

Her hand found the hilt of the eating knife at her side and a moment later the blade plunged up into the exposed skin of his groin. His eyes widened with shock. He said something, but the sounds in her head were blaring too loud to make it out.

It was as if time were passing at half-speed as her head fought to clear. He swayed for a long moment, and then toppled over.