Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 95765 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95765 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Oh the fucking noise. It even makes me start, my pulse in my temples as my mouth waters.
I count up from one. At five her bedroom door opens. I feel every second of the tension as she pauses in the hallway. At ten the kitchen light flicks on and I see her face reflected in the window. No makeup, tired eyes, her long hair piled up in a messy bun.
She’s wearing a simple white cami and knickers.
She looks fucking delicious.
She’s jumpy, even through her sleepy disorientation. Her eyes widen as she steps forward enough to see the smashed glass in the sink.
I wait. Hold my breath.
She moves the other items on the drainer back from the edge, even though they don’t stand a chance of falling.
She curses under her breath as she wraps the bulk of the broken shards in one of those crappy free ad papers. She’s yawning even as she tackles the rest and turns on the tap to swill the remnants down the drain.
My sweet little black swan doesn’t even suspect I’m waiting. Lurking.
My demons take control, every muscle poised for action.
And then I make my move.
She jumps clear in the air as I step out into the light. There’s no recognition in her eyes as they fly wide. She spins on her heel in a flash, letting out the kind of scream that comes from pure instinct and nothing else. I take her breath when I snake my arm around her ribs and pull tight. My hand is brutal as all fuck as it clasps over her open mouth.
And today she struggles.
Today she’s a flapping bird in the mouth of a cat. Her heels lash at my shins. Her nails dig into my arms even through the denim of my jacket.
She thrashes against me hard enough that I question if she’s done with this game for real.
And then I speak.
It’s my voice that cuts through her panic enough that she stills in a beat.
“I’ll hurt you if you fight me,” I whisper. “If you’re a good girl, I may even let you enjoy this.”
Her breaths even out just a little. Her head presses back against my shoulder. Her feet hitch against my shins as I carry her through to her bedroom.
When I drop her it’s with some force, straight onto her bed. I open the curtains to the road outside, just for the glow of the streetlights. She looks beautiful in the orange glare.
Scared. Wanting.
She flips onto her back and scurries back toward the headboard.
Her nipples are hard through her cami top. Her eyes are wide.
Fuck, how I need this.
How I need her.
“What the–” she begins, but I bark at her to shut her fucking mouth.
She squeaks as I lunge for her, swiping out at me with dainty fingers as I stalk up the bed.
They land surprisingly hard on my cheek.
Land again before I can pin her.
When I do she squirms and bucks underneath me, hissing as her thighs open wide.
I’m waiting for a yes or a no, or even a don’t hurt me.
I’m waiting for her to play this fucking game like she really believes in it.
I’m waiting to give her the monster she claims she wants, and this time take it all the way.
But when she opens her mouth I get none of it. None of the playacting and none of the fear, either.
“You’re an asshole,” she hisses as I pin her wrists above her head.
My eyes widen on hers, and hers are angry.
“What the–” I begin, but it’s her who cuts me off this time.
I’m not prepared for the way she fights to be out from under me. I take her struggle easily, holding her down with nothing more than a hiss of breath in exertion. My eyes are fierce on hers, even through the shock.
And then, just as though I didn’t hear her well enough the first time, she speaks again.
“You’re an absolute motherfucking asshole, Leo.”
Twenty-Five
To put meaning in one’s life may end in madness, but life without meaning is the torture of restlessness and vague desire. It is a boat longing for the sea and yet afraid.
Edgar Lee Masters
Abigail
Relief and lust and anger. A whirlwind of emotion that lashes out at him just as soon as it rises in me.
He pins me without even flinching, his weight crushing me to the bed so hard I can’t move an inch.
His voice is low and dangerous. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I called you,” I tell him, like he doesn’t know already. “I’ve been waiting weeks to hear even a fucking peep from you.”
“And you’re hearing it now.” His breath is hot against my mouth. My soul screams to feel his lips on mine, but I’m too scared to taste him. “You wanted a monster in the darkness. You wanted a stranger. You wanted this.”