Free Dina Santorelli by Baby Grand

was turned backward, and his white sleeves were rolled
up to the elbows; there was fresh dirt in the crevices and around the threaded
edges. The scent of his cologne was strong, as if he'd just put some on, and
filled the room like poisonous gas. His eyes were fixed upon her the same way
that they'd been in Bryant Park, and that cold, menacing look made Jamie
shudder. She bumped into the crib, jerking it a little, but the child remained
undisturbed. She was out cold.
    Pressed
against the wall, Jamie shook her head no, putting her arms in front of her to
push against Bailino's body as he closed in on her, but he was like a tank. She
tried to speak, but her voice came out as a whimper.
    " Shhhh ,"
he whispered before his large mouth closed in on hers. She clenched her lips
and teeth together, but his hand grabbed the sides of her jaw and pulled it
down, forcing her mouth open, and his other hand wrapped around her head and
pushed it forward.
    She
shoved her face away and gasped for breath, watching the sleeping baby as
Bailino landed powerful kisses on her neck and shoulders, sucking on her skin,
pulling it in between his teeth and stretching it until she felt like it was
going to rip off.
    "Nooo..."
she wheezed, wincing from the pain, the tiny bites feeling like slices of a
razorblade.
    Bailino
released his grip, but before Jamie could react, he slammed his body against
hers to hold it in place as his hands quickly undid the button and zipper of
his khakis. His pants and underwear slid to the ground, and as he kicked them
to the side, he grabbed her hand and placed it on his hairy groin.
    "Noooo,"
Jamie said again, trying to pull away.
    "Touch
me," he rumbled, his voice a heavy whisper.
    "I...
I can't." Tears streamed down her face, stinging the area around her mouth,
where Bailino's five o'clock shadow had left her skin raw.
    He
grabbed her hand and, cupping it with his, placed it on his penis, which felt
like a missile in her hand. He held it there and squeezed, a small gasp
escaping from his mouth, which he threw again onto Jamie's, his saliva covering
her lips and cheeks. Pinning her shoulder back with his free hand, he moved his
lips down to her chin, his tongue following the crevice of her cleft, and then,
methodically, to her neck, the area between her breasts, and down to her
stomach and below her waist. Jamie picked her feet up off the floor, hoping
gravity would help overcome his hold, and it did: She slid until suddenly
Bailino crouched down and threw her over his shoulder with ease.
    "Please,"
she cried, as she picked her head up and saw the baby through the bars of the
crib get further away as he carried her out and into the bedroom.
    The
large muscles of Bailino's biceps worked like the well-oiled gears of a tractor
as he flopped Jamie onto the bed and charged forward. Before she could catch
her breath, he was on top of her, ripping her shirt open, pulling her bra
straps down from her shoulders, and burying his face between and under her
breasts. Piece by piece, the layers of the white luxurious bedding fell to the
floor as Jamie groped for something to hang onto, feeling as if she were
grabbing handfuls of fluffy snow while dangling from atop a cliff. Bailino's
large hands groped at her body, squeezing her nipples, and Jamie slapped at his
hands, pulling at the coarse patches of hair along the fingers in a futile
effort to pull them away. She reached outward for something, anything, to use
as a weapon.
    She
managed to turn over and wrap her fingers around the top of the headboard, but
Bailino heaved her arm back, sending a searing pain through her shoulder, and
then flipped her onto her back again and landed on top of her. While Jamie
struggled to regain her breath, Bailino flicked her hands aside, pushed her
skirt up and tore at her underwear, which was still wet with urine;  Jamie felt
a surge of pain as Bailino pressed open her legs and jammed into her, slamming
her head into the delicate iron scrollwork of