He came to stand before me, his hands deep in his coat pockets, his eyes boring into my soul as it were and snarled,
“So say it, damn it! I want to hear you say it! ‘.
“They are your children,” I said stiffly.
Gaston moved closer and I shrank back.
“ I’m not going to touch you.” He sneered and went on, conversationally, “I need to get a test done. A paternity test.”
As I gazed at him stupidly, he went on. ”I’m a rich man as you may have discovered. I don’t want some b******* on my doorstep, claiming to be mine.’ He flicked a finger at my swollen mouth and I winced at the deliberate hurt, frowning in disbelief.
“When you’re not so young and desirable’ he went on, running his eyes over my body slowly, seeming to strip me, “and there are no takers for this lush body. ‘ He moved closer, bridging the gap between us, breathing hard, his eyes on my breasts, his hands still shoved in his pockets, he continued,’ You might think of making some easy money. Foisting someone else’s dirty b******* on me.”, he mocked.
The ugly words, the unjustness of it all, incensed me and without thinking, I raised my hands to claw his face; He captured my hands easily but not before I had scratched his chin, leaving a deep, bloody cut on his face. He laughed in surprise and arousal as I struggled, while he pinned my arms behind me, my body forced against his. The resistance that I had shown seemed to intrigue and excite him, I realized with a sinking heart and I bowed my head in dejection.