Page 23 of Ballad of Nightmares

Though watching her practically run home wasdelightful.

So fucking cute.

He finished his smoke and squashed it into his palm before flicking the trash into the bin under the streetlamp, and then he made his way into the corner store nearby. He took his time, eager to have Ana impatient by the time he got back to her.

The stairs on the side of the building creaked with every slow step he took. He’d picked out wine and grabbed a tray of cheese and fruit just in case she was hungry or perhaps so exhausted after their escapades that she needed refueling.

Mortal bodies were so fragile, after all.

There were three other apartments on this block, all entrances down a narrow hall upstairs. Each apartment sat atop a particular shop. He’d once had an acquaintance that lived in the one across from the Rosen apartment, but he’d only visited once.

The hall was dark, with a window on the opposite end, amber lights cascading over the green and gold wallpaper, and beige carpeting that hadn’t been updated in years. The lightbulbs flickered upon his first step onto the carpet, and Sam chuckled under his breath. And with his laugh, one bulb blew by the window. He glanced at two others, and they too blew. It would have been a beautiful scare to any unsuspecting human coming down then, with him cloaked in shadows, only appearing in faint flickers of light.

Shame it had been wasted on the vacancy. Maybe he’d play a little with Ana one day in the same way.

Her door was cracked. Sam pushed slowly but didn’t go inside at first. He took in the sight of the bar to the left of the door, the grand windows on the opposite side, back of the couch to the right of the door. The room was so dimly lit that he memorized where the shadows lingered… just in case. A stereo was playing soft music, though it was nearly drowned by the thunder now rumbling outside.

Three taps on the door announced his arrival, and as he stepped inside, he noted the two wine glasses on the bar, the glass of water left half-full, her purse on the barstool, and her coat thrown across the back of one dining table chair. Sam closed the door behind him and sat the wine on the countertop and began pouring two glasses.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—“ Ana’s hissing curses were drowned behind a clap of thunder, loud enough that she jumped, and when she finally noticed Sam standing in the kitchen pouring wine, she flinched to a stop.

“Fucking Death, Sam,” she said, clutching her chest. “Making yourself at home?”

“The door was open,” he replied. “Thought you’d left it open and bound yourself to the bed already.” He picked up the glasses of wine and stepped around the counter toward her.

A quiet smile pricked her lips as he neared. “What would be the fun in that?” she asked.

He extended the wine glass to her, their fingers grazing when she took it from his hand, and he didn’t look away from her bright green eyes as he took a sip of his own. The maroon liquid stained her skin with the small drop at the corner of her lips, making him wipe it away with the pad of his thumb.

Those fucking lips… that red lipstick… he wanted it smeared over her face and around his cock. Though he didn’t give in to his desires all at once. He wouldn’t. He wanted to give her a singular taste tonight. Wanted to watch her beg for more while she thought he was begging for her.

He could already feel her heart picking up its pace. “The fun in that would be your reward for following instructions,” he replied, voice dropping. “I wanted my feast ready for me.”

Ana’s chin lifted. “That’s cute,” she said. “That you think you can justhavethis… I told you the other night what I wanted.”

Catch me. Play with me.

He could practically hear her shouting it from her mind.

He smirked as he backed into the kitchen again to refill his drink. “Quite the view you have here,” he said.

“And I thought you were coming up here to fuck my ‘pretty little throat’,” she said with a tilt of her head, her voice almost impatient. “Turns out you’re more interested in the architecture and my view.”

Sam chuckled quietly. He tipped one more glass and took a long drink of it, his gaze still pouring over her. He noted how far she was away from him, all the places she could run and try to get away. Maybe over the couch, to the bedroom, the bathroom.

And then he took one singular step around the counter.

“So eager, baby,” he said.

Ana seemed to sense the change. She sidestepped from the window to behind the table, fingers bracing on the top.

“Are you going to run for me?” he rasped.

“Should I?”

Another laugh left him with his next advance. “Your heart seems to think so,” and he could feel her pulse beginning to thunder, making his cock twitch with every galloping beat.

Her fingers scratched the tabletop, legs widening like she might jump.