Текст книги "Stalker "
Автор книги: Clarissa Wild
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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 21 страниц)
CHAPTER 19
PHOENIX
A few days later …
For days, I’ve been giving that girl in the closet some food and water, and then chucking her back in there. I honestly don’t know what the fuck to do with her. I can’t free her, but it’s such a waste to let her die. It would make Vanessa less compliant, so I guess I have no other choice but to keep her alive. Besides, I hate killing innocent people. See? I’m not such a bad guy.
The doctor came yesterday. Well, our organization’s doctor, of course. He’s as reliable as a regular one, except he does the dirty jobs, the ones no one else will ever want to take. I mean, who wants to tend to a kidnapped girl? Right.
I had Vanessa tested and myself too, so I’d be a hundred percent sure it’s safe to ravage her. Plus, I didn’t want to use condoms anymore. I want to feel her wet pussy with nothing but my own cock. She’s always been on the pill because I found it in her cabinet, and I make sure she still takes it by forcing it down her throat. I check her mouth every time, so I make sure she doesn’t spit it out. Of course, I assume she doesn’t want my baby anyway. Just thinking about it makes me laugh.
I look at her cage, which stands in the corner of the living room now because I wanted a change of scenery. She’s grinding her teeth, still glaring at me as if she’s going to rip my head off if I come close. I marvel at the sight of her in the new panties that I gave her. It’s black lingerie with a little red skirt, perfect for my pet.
“Comfy?” I ask, as I reposition myself on the couch.
“Hardly.”
“Good.” I smile.
“When are you going to take this thing off me?” she says, pointing to her collar.
“Never,” I muse.
“I’m not an animal,” she hisses.
“You are to me.”
She makes a face. “You know? You’re really a pig when you say things like that.”
“Aw, we can be animals together, babe.” I throw her a kiss in the air, which only seems to annoy her more.
“Is this really how you intend to spend the rest of your days until the cops arrive to take you away? Honestly, I thought you were going to hurt me, or even kill me, but no, you’re keeping me in a cage like some sort of …”
“Pet. Exactly.” I shift forward. “Which is exactly what you are to me. Be happy. It means you’re worthy enough to live.”
“They’ll put you away for a long time once they find me,” she says.
“Who? The cops? I doubt it. They won’t find either of us before we’re dead,” I say, and I really mean it. I don’t think I’m going to make it out alive. I don’t like the thought of dying, but I sure as hell don’t like spending an eternity stuck in prison. I’d rather go out with a bang.
And I’ll make sure to take her with me.
“If Arthur is still out there, he’ll get them to come to my house.”
“Ha, I doubt it. The fucker has probably already bled to death,” I muse.
“You don’t know that,” she says, gazing at me from under her eyelashes. “Maybe he’s still alive. Maybe he’s recovering. Maybe he’ll come for me. And when he does … your head’s going to roll.”
“No, yours is, sweet cheeks. In case you didn’t remember, he wanted you dead.”
“He’ll want you dead, too,” she says. “After what you did to him.”
Sighing, I get up from the couch and grab my duct tape. As I walk to her, she starts protesting.
“Stop, Phoenix. Stop doing that.”
She’s been getting on my nerves a lot. “You talk too much,” I say, as I fish a pair of her panties from my pocket. I briefly smell them, her scent still intoxicating as ever, and then I stuff them in her mouth and stick over some tape. “There.” I smile. “Much better.”
***
VANESSA
I hate him.
I hate him so much.
And yet, when he looks at me like that with that happy smile on his face, I can’t help but wonder what has become of us. I’m a captured woman, stuck in this prison and subjected to his every whim, and he’s the monster who changes his plans and wishes with the snap of a finger. Every day I wonder when he’ll kill me. If he’ll follow through with what he said.
I know he’s done it before. He can do it again.
Just like me.
I don’t remember when we became this way. It just happened. Over the course of the years, our decisions shaped us into the people we are now. But why did we let this happen? Couldn’t we see the consequences? Or were we too blinded by hatred?
I push the thoughts away, but they keep drifting back into my mind. I can’t allow myself to think about the what-ifs and could have beens. I should focus on the here and now, but it’s hard, knowing our history.
Somehow, a little part of me still thinks she can change the inevitable. That she can change herself. And him.
But it’s all futile, and I, more than anyone, should know that feeling for people never leads to anything good.
With this collar around my neck, he reminds me every day of his hold over me. This isn’t the first collar I’ve worn, even though it is the first that’s around my neck. There’s another who’s claimed me as his own before. Not my heart. Not my love. He had my life in his hands as he twisted the little ring around my finger.
It meant the end of Vanessa, the girl who lived for love, and the beginning of the girl who lived for vengeance.
***
Age 19
My body quakes with every step I take. Each one is another toward a destiny I cannot escape … a destiny that will slowly peel the goodness out of my soul.
I had only one choice.
Sacrifice my happiness … or sacrifice his life.
I couldn’t choose heartbreak, so I chose ruin instead.
In a white laced dress covered with crystals and with a necklace made of diamonds, I open the door of my chambers and step out into the hallway. There is no one there except Arthur, Phillip’s brother, waiting for me. My father is already at the entrance to the aisle, but I don’t dare go there yet.
I glance at Arthur. He smiles and briefly looks up and down my dress. “You look lovely.”
“Thank you,” I say, smiling a little, but it can’t hide the growing sadness inside me. The closer I get, the more desperate I become to escape from this world for just a moment.
He steps forward and grabs my hand when I stumble. “Careful there.”
“I’m sorry; I’m so clumsy.”
“No need to apologize.” He muffles a laugh, and it sounds genuine, something I haven’t heard in a long while. He cocks his head. “Are you okay?”
I sigh and look at him. “That depends on what you want to hear.”
“I want to hear the truth.”
“Hmm …” I nod. “You’re not like your family.”
“So they say,” he says.
His eyes take me in completely, blinking a couple of times while gazing at me without holding back. Like he’s checking me out, even though he knows he’s not supposed to.
It’s not the first time this has happened, and I’m sure now that we’ll become in-laws, it won’t be the last time.
I clear my throat. “But to answer your question, no. Not at all.”
He frowns. “Is it the dress?”
“No.” I look down at the floor.
“Then what?” He tries to look at me, but I turn my head away.
I don’t want him to see the water in my eyes. I push the tears away immediately. I can’t let anyone see them. Especially my mother. Weakness to her means an opportunity to strike, and I can’t give her that chance.
“I’m fine,” I say, and I try to walk ahead, but he’s still holding my hand.
“You’re not. I can tell.”
“Oh, really?” I jest.
“You’re not a very good liar,” he muses.
“Not yet,” I say. “But I’ll soon be. Just like all of them.”
“You don’t have to be.”
The change in his voice makes me stop and think. I glance over my shoulder at him. “Why’d you say that?”
“You can still choose not to marry him.”
I frown. “How? I don’t have a choice. They’ll kill my … me.”
He steps closer and grabs both my hands. “I know you don’t want this.”
The way he holds me, so carefully, gently, like he wants me to be safe … it instills some sort of need in me that overwhelms me. It makes me want to hug him and confide in him, even though I barely know him. Phillip used to tell me how his brother always wanted what he couldn’t have … but to me, he’s always so nice.
I can hardly believe they’re family.
I take a deep breath, which is hard in this tight dress. “What other choice do I have?”
“Your mother is the one who’s arranging all of this, right? And she’s the one threatening you.”
“Yes,” I say. I don’t understand where he’s going with this.
“If she’s out of the way … Your worries disappear.”
“What? What are you saying?” I gasp, making a face. I can’t believe what I’m hearing.
“Shh …” He leans in to whisper in my ear. “Hear me out. She’s the one thing who keeps this commitment going. Your mother is the only one who has a hold on you. If you get rid of her, you’re no longer bound to this commitment. You don’t have to marry Phillip.”
I swallow when I hear what he’s saying. It’s like it doesn’t even register. Is he suggesting that I kill my own mother?
“You’d be free.”
These last few words repeat over and over in my head.
Freedom.
It’s all I ever wanted. All I could never have.
Not as long as I was going to marry Phillip.
Not as long as my mother was there to torture my soul.
If she were gone … nothing would keep me from Miles.
But how?
And then it appears, right in front of me. The answer to all my questions. A vial filled with a substance is held out to me. The same kind of vial his mother had used to poison the political opponents of my father.
Like a forbidden secret, he slides it onto my hand, as he whispers into my ear, “You control your own fate. Make your choice.”
***
During the wedding
The wedding ceremony is all a blur to me. Sweat drops trickle down my back as I’m continuously reminded of the lethal weapon sitting in my purse. Every passing second is another one wasted, but I don’t dare move. The consequences of this choice are too heavy. I can’t make such a life-changing decision so quickly.
When we exchange the rings, my eyes can only focus on Phillip for a second before being torn away toward the purse lying on a table in the corner. During the reception, all I can think of is that vial. The thought of using it consumes me. It’s like a devil is on my shoulder, telling me to use it.
However, every time I glance at my mother, my courage leaks out of me.
During dinner, I get up from my seat and walk toward the table with my purse clutched between my clammy fingers. I take out the vial, hide it in my hand, and walk to the table. There’s no one near me; the rest of the guests are all mingling, so now is the perfect time. The drinks are there, and all I need to do is pour it in.
My fingers tremble as I hold out the vial and push off the lid with my thumb. When I’ve made sure no one’s looking, I drip it into a glass and pick it up. I can’t believe what I’m doing as I walk toward the table where his parents and my parents are sitting. Am I really going to kill my own mother? Is it all worth it? I don’t know how or why, but somehow the thought of murdering her makes me sick to my stomach. I hate her … but do I honestly want her dead?
She’s my mother. Even after everything she’s done, I still want her to love me. I always did. After all, she will always be my mother, no matter if she’s alive or dead. Nothing will change that.
I try to prevent my hand from shaking as I bring the glass toward them. The smile on my face is as fake as can be. I wonder if they can see through it. My mother looks up at me, and for the first time in a long while, there’s a genuine smile on her face, almost as if she’s truly happy to see me. Like I’m finally being the daughter she always dreamed I’d be.
That look … it stops my heart.
My mother … She’ll always be my mother, even if we can’t stand each other.
I can’t kill my mother.
I just can’t.
But I won’t let them ruin my life, either.
Someone has to pay for what they did to me. And if I can’t punish my own mother … then it’ll be someone else’s mother instead.
Someone equally responsible for matching me with Phillip.
Someone with just as much influence and hold on our family.
So I hand the glass to Phillip’s mother with a courteous smile. “Bottoms up.”
She takes it from my hand, saying, “Thank you, darling. You’re so sweet.”
“No problem; I don’t like sitting around all night, so I thought I’d give a few people a drink.”
She smiles and brings the glass to her lips. Every movement she makes lets my heart beat faster again. Anxiously, I wait until she takes a sip. When she does, I feel like I’m about to burst out of my skin. I don’t know why I’m feeling so happy, but I do.
Maybe I’m just as evil as my mother is. I enjoy killing this woman a little too much. It doesn’t surprise me, though. After all, she is my mother … and they say apples don’t fall far from the tree. In this case, we’re already rotten to the core.
It takes a little longer for the poison to set in this time. I guess Arthur gave me a little less potent vial. Good, it makes it less easy for the family to realize who it was. After all this time has passed, I’m already dancing on the floor with Phillip, pretending to be a happy couple, as his mother falls to the ground. Unbeknownst to the rest of the guests, I was the one who caused her demise.
Screams ensue.
Glances filled with horror and sorrow fill the room.
But all I care about is the look on both Phillip and my mother’s face the moment they realize she’s dead.
That look … I could do it all just for that.
Retribution.
And then I spot him rushing into the room. Arthur. The look on his face brings me chills. He’s looking at me. Not at his mother. Me. And I’m staring back at him, frozen in the middle of the dance floor, while everyone rushes to his mother’s body.
All we do is exchange looks, but I know what he’s thinking.
I made a different choice. One he didn’t see coming; one he didn’t prepare for.
But I know he won’t hold it against me. He hates his mother just as much as I do, even though he probably won’t see it that way right now. The look on his face says it all. Surprise overtakes him, but I’m unable to identify if it’s positive or negative.
Our glances tell a story.
I did it.
I did what no one thought I could.
I became a cold-blooded killer.
CHAPTER 20
VANESSA
Present, a few days later …
Phoenix sits in his chair, gazing at me while twirling a knife in his hand. I wonder what goes through his head when he’s looking at me like that. Like I’m the prey he’s caught and now has to decide what to do with me. I’m just sitting here silently in my cage, waiting until he makes his move. I won’t fight him. I won’t disobey him. I’ll give him anything he wants … so that eventually he’ll let me be free again.
I’m not so sure that he still plans to kill me. If he really wanted to, he’d have done it by now. I’m starting to think he’s having his doubts, so I’ll make sure to use them against him. Maybe help him remember the time he used to love me.
After a while, he gets up and walks toward my cage. The smirk on his face is both irresistible and infuriating. I wrap my fingers around the bars and look up at him with my doe-like eyes, hoping it will give me an advantage.
“Stop fluttering those eyelashes, Vanessa. It won’t help you.”
I shrug as he goes on his knees and finally takes the duct tape off my face. I groan as he rips it away because it leaves a sizzling burn. “Thank you,” I say.
“Hmm …” He frowns, cocking his head. “You’ve never been very grateful. It sounds so strange coming from your mouth.”
I smile. “Well, there’s always a first for everything.”
He shakes his head, laughing. “You … you’re really a piece of work, you know that?”
“That’s what everyone says. I don’t see it.”
“Or you just don’t want to.” He clears his throat. “Turn around.”
I do what he says, and he grabs my arms and puts the cuffs on my wrists. Then he grabs a leather leash he bought and hooks it to the ring on my neck. With a key, he opens the chains around the cage and pulls it open. “Out.”
On hands and feet, I crawl out of the small prison he’s confined me to. It’s hard, considering my hands are chained together, but I manage. Phoenix pulls on the leash until my neck rises and I’m forced to sit on the back of my feet.
“Get up,” he says.
I get up slowly, keeping my eyes on him at all times. He tugs the leather fastened to the band around my neck, causing me to fall into his arms.
“Careful there, Princess.” He grins.
“You pulled,” I say, as I try to keep standing without having my hands available to hold onto something.
“I want you to feel what it’s like to be controlled by someone else,” he muses, hauling me closer with the leash. “And how does it feel?”
“It feels wrong.”
The left side of his lip curls up. “Wrong can be good sometimes.” He lifts the knife in his other hand and runs it along my cheek, making me shiver. “I like it better this way …” he murmurs. Then he cuts into my skin. I have trouble not making a sound as the blood drops roll down my face.
“So beautiful …” he whispers. “Such a shame I have to fuck it all up.”
“Why?” I ask. I don’t understand his obsession with my blood.
He leans in, his tongue dipping out to pick up a droplet of blood. “Because you won’t be able to lie anymore once you’re just as ugly as I am. Except where I’m only ugly on the inside, you’ll be ugly on both sides.”
“No,” I say. “I don’t think you’re ugly.”
He stops and looks at me for a moment, just breathing in silently.
“Liar,” he murmurs.
“No. It’s the truth,” I say. “Why else would I get so …” I smash my lips together.
“Excited?” A spark ignites in his eyes. “Hmm …”
The cut in my cheek isn’t deep, but it sizzles and burns like hell. Damn him. I can’t keep up with him; he keeps changing his behavior.
“You know. I could get used to this,” he says.
“What do you mean?”
He leans in to whisper in my ear, “You as my pet instead of an enemy.”
I suck in a breath when he places a kiss on my neck, the knife still inches away from puncturing my skin again. It’s such a double message; I don’t know what to think or feel which is exactly what he wants.
He whispers, “I think I’d rather keep you alive than let you die without having had any fun.” The blade slides down and underneath my chin. “Do you agree?”
I nod, careful not to cut my own skin with his knife.
“And I’m having so much fun right now,” he whispers, pulling the leash even tighter as if he wants to hear me gasp. “And I can tell you are, too.”
“What gives it away?” I jest as sarcastically as I can.
“Oh, don’t think you can hide your excitement from me, Vanessa. I know how much you’ve craved a strong hand like mine.” The knife drifts down my arm, almost as if he’s caressing me with it. “All those years in a dried-up marriage must have left you so hungry …” He growls in my ear, licking my earlobe. “Hungry for a real man.”
I take in a ragged breath feeling him smile against my skin. As much as I want to deny his claims, I have to admit that I’ve always wanted a strong, independent, dominant man, someone who was capable of claiming my heart without me handing it to him on a platter. Someone who loved me for who I was, no-holds-barred.
Except I don’t want him to be that man.
How could he be? After all the things we’ve done to each other?
“C’mon,” he says, and he pulls my leash, dragging me with him toward the kitchen.
I’m surprised to find a table for two already decked out. My surprise seems to catch his attention.
“Have I impressed you?” he asks, tying my leash to a wooden beam.
“Expecting company?”
He frowns, as if he doesn’t get my question. “No. Why would you think that?”
“Are you saying that you set the table for me, too?”
“Well, like I said, I thought you might be hungry.” His smirk is so incredibly annoying and sexy … god, I’m not sure if I want to scold him or smile back.
Especially when he starts biting his own lip ring … fuck, that’s hot.
Jesus, why am I thinking about this?
“Sit,” he commands, which gives me an excuse not to think about it. “On the back of your feet.”
I sit down on the floor, but he’s tied the leash so high that it forces me to keep my head up. “Don’t move,” he says. “You know what happens if you do.”
In this position, in the corner of the room, I look like a girl waiting for someone. Always waiting … waiting for him. Just like he’d probably want me to.
It’s all a game. All of this. Mind games—that’s what he’s playing. And it’s working.
With a self-indulgent smile, he walks back to the stove and starts cooking some delicious pancakes that make my mouth water when I smell them. Damn, I didn’t know he could cook this good. After thirty minutes, my stomach is killing me and so are my legs, but I can’t falter in my devotion to make him think he’s in charge. Sometimes, he briefly glances at me while flipping the pancakes, smoking at the same time. The smug look on his face makes me blush.
When he’s done, he places them on the table, puts out his smoke, and comes toward me. He unties the leash and gently holds it in his hand, not even tight, as if he expects me to heel. And he’s right, I won’t run because I know I won’t be able to escape his grasp. Not yet. I have to wait until the time is right, until he’s lifted all my restrictions, and his heart is wide open.
Just like it used to be, before I stomped on it.
I must say, I do regret my actions in the past, but I can’t change what I’ve done. I hate how I treated him, but I did it for the right reasons. What he did, however, was not for the right reasons.
Trying to frame me for the murder of my husband. Locking me up in a cage.
He’s turned into a monster.
And now I’m his. The monster’s pet. But he knows as well as I do that it’s not as black and white as it seems. We’re both monsters in our own story. I have spun his heart around my finger and crushed it with my bare hands. A long time ago, he was the pet … and then I became the monster. Now the roles have reversed. I can’t say I didn’t see it coming. I just didn’t think it’d be like this, with him literally tying me up, feeding me pancakes with a big grin on his face.
He seems to be enjoying this a little too much.
“Like the pancakes?” he asks, holding up the fork with another slice.
“They’re good,” I say, swallowing.
“Do you mean that, or are you just saying that to please me?” He swings the next bit in front of my face as if it’s a game and I’m supposed to reach out and bite it off.
“I mean it,” I say.
“Hmm … or maybe it’s the hunger talking.”
“Could be. You didn’t actually feed me that often.”
“That’s because you didn’t deserve it,” he muses, pushing another piece into my mouth.
After I chew on it for a bit, I say, “And now I do?”
“Hmm …” He smiles, leaning on his hand as if he’s bored. “You’ve been a good girl these past few days.”
“Hmm … should I take that as a compliment?” I jest, opening my mouth to await the next piece.
He just gazes at me from under his eyelashes. “You know … I love it when you have that pretty mouth of yours open. Makes me want to put other things inside it.”
My cheeks flush, and then he shoves another piece of pancake inside my mouth, preventing me from reacting. When I’ve swallowed it, he pulls my leash toward him and says, “Show your appreciation, Princess. Pucker up.”
I close my eyes as he leans in to kiss me on my lips, his taste mingling with the sweetness of the pancakes. He’s not rough at all, just slow and sensual, which throws me off because I didn’t expect it. At least, not from him. He’s always so demanding and quick, as if he wants to make the most out of the seconds he has, but now he’s taking his sweet time. Licking my lips, groaning between every kiss. His sounds and kisses enthrall me. I’m a puppet to his desires, and I don’t even mind.
“You taste so good, Princess …” he murmurs into my mouth. “Like strawberries covered in honey.” He bites his lip and kisses me again, holding the leash tight as if he’s afraid I’ll move away if he doesn’t. I wouldn’t, not even if he let go of it completely.
“I wonder if you taste like that everywhere,” he says, getting up from the chair to get near to me. He pulls me up for another kiss, putting his grabby hands on my waist. They slowly inch down toward my ass, squeezing lightly as his kisses become deeper and more vigorous. He moans into my mouth, alerting all my senses as his grip on my leash and ass becomes tighter.
“C’mere,” he growls, as he suddenly lifts me off the ground and sets me down on the table.
He slides aside the plates and cutlery, making room for me to sit properly as he devours my mouth. I don’t know why he’s this lusty, but I’m not complaining one bit. I’d rather have this Phoenix than the murderous one. I suppose I’m not the only one having regrets. After all, we once were lovers. It’s hard not to fall into an old pattern.
“Fuck, I wanna taste that sweetness of yours,” he murmurs, planting kisses all over my chest.
He rips off the tiny pink crop top he bought for me, tearing it to pieces. Grabbing a handful of my breast, he puts his lips to it and sucks, hard. So hard, it makes me gasp out loud, and when he bites and tugs my nipple, I squeal from excitement.
“You seem to like a little pain, Vanessa,” he muses, licking my sensitive nipple.
“Well, I sure as hell don’t mind this,” I moan when he does the same to the other nipple.
“Oh, do you now?” he says with a smirk as he looks up. “And here I thought you didn’t want me to use you as a fuck toy.”
“I consider this the better option.”
“Than?”
I look down into his eyes. “Being killed.”
“Oh.” He laughs. “There are many, many things I want to do to you, Princess, and killing is still at the top of my list.”
“Then why don’t you?” I ask.
His brows furrow, and he stops to look me in the eyes, pulling my leash. But instead of answering, he presses his lips onto mine and kisses away the doubt I felt.
Of course, he still wants to kill me. Who wouldn’t, after what I’ve done.
He just can’t. Whatever is left of his heart won’t let him.
***
PHOENIX
Goddamn her and her infuriating nonstop questions.
When I take my lips off hers, I want to dive back in. I tell myself that I shouldn’t—that she’s fucking bad for me, and that I’m fucking bad for her—but I just can’t fucking stay away. But every time she opens that damn mouth of hers, something comes out that reminds me of all the hatred I have stored inside, and it pisses me off.
So I reach for a tablecloth and stuff it in her mouth. “Shut up and keep that in there.”
She murmurs disapprovingly, but I ignore her sounds and continue to ravish her beautiful titties. Nothing like smashing your face into a couple of titties in the morning. The best way to start the day.
I push her further onto the table, taking a handful of her beautiful tits just so I can squeeze them. Her moans don’t penetrate the cloth, but they sure as hell make my cock twitch. I don’t give a damn about what I’m actually supposed to be doing now that I have her in my clutches; all I want to do is fuck her day in and day out. It makes me think of all those years ago, when all I wanted was to be with her. The rest of the world could suck it for all I cared. Except it didn’t turn out that way, so I push the thought away.
Instead, I push her skirt up and let my fingers slide up her thighs to her pussy, teasing her by brushing over it quickly. Her moans turn me on so much that I start licking and nibbling on her ear and biting her neck. Her excitement makes her spit out the cloth in her mouth, and I don’t give a fuck. I feel like an animal wanting to ravage her. I’m out of control, and I don’t give a fuck. Because I wanna fuck. Period. There’s nothing more to it.
I throw everything off the table, not giving a shit where it ends up, as I hold her tight and kiss her deeply. I bury my tongue in her mouth, licking her with a fierceness that I’ve not experienced in a long while. With one hand I grip the soft flesh of her ass as I tease her pussy with the other, making her moan. I love the sounds she makes, and it makes me so horny that I grab her throat and push her down on the table. The frightened look in her eyes as I unbuckle my belt with one hand brings me chills, good chills. It’s such a rush; it feels like I’m on drugs as I take off the belt and wrap it around her hair like a scrunchie and then tie the belt to the table leg. I walk away and grab the kitchen wire she keeps in a drawer, and I tie them around her legs and then to the table. With her hands above her head, there’s really nowhere for her to go now. Her chest rises higher with each breath, and I can see her panicking.
“Relax, Princess,” I say, letting my finger drift down her chest. “You’re going to like this.”
She shakes her head and starts to jerk on the wires, which makes me reach for my knife. Her eyes widen at the sight of the blade lowering, touching her skin. The squeal that comes from her mouth the moment I slide it down her belly is exhilarating, almost like a climaxing to me.
“Stay still, Princess,” I say. “This won’t hurt. Much.”
“Please don’t.”
“What? Make you bleed?”
“No.”
“You’ll like it, eventually,” I muse, leaning over her. “I’m sure of it.”
“I don’t believe you,” she says with a ragged breath.
I smile. “Then I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”
I use the knife as a marker, drawing a pattern without drawing blood. Her eyes anxiously follow the tip, as if she’s trying to prepare for something. The thing is that she’ll never know when it’s coming. That look on her face, priceless. So torturous, the way she’s unraveling bit by bit … it’s like food for my soul.
Sweat trickles down her skin, and then when I let the tip puncture her skin just a tiny bit, she squeals. But I know it doesn’t hurt that much. I’ve tried this on myself plenty of times. Always have to know what the things I do to my victims feel like. Of course, the fear is taking over her sense of rationalizing. She’s letting it control her instead of experiencing it for what it is. Fear is excitement. Fear is a part of our souls. Fear makes us feel alive.
And she should be grateful that she’s still alive.
It’s all in my hands. With one slice, I could kill her right here, right now. But I don’t.
Instead, I lean in and suckle the blood off her skin, kissing her softly, letting my tongue slide all across her belly.
She squirms underneath me; her body arches to meet my mouth, but her mind is still focusing on the fear.
