<div align="center"><em>Christine</em></div><br/>Christine looked up in horror at Alistair as he ordered his mother to kneel beside her and lift up her skirt. She blushed deep crimson and hoped that the woman would stand up to her son. When he called her his toy, Christine rolled her eyes and shook her head, muttering softly.<br/><br/>"I am not your toy."<br/><br/>However, when he tilted her head up and stroked her throat tenderly, her breathing hitched and her eyes fluttered closed in simple pleasure. She didn't want to give in to him, but there was something about him. Sadistic? Yes. Evil? Definitely. Sexy? Indeed. Licking her lips, she opened her eyes and looked at Alistair, trying to disguise the lust as something more innocent...like hate, perhaps.