Page 57 of Nightshades

A reaction I’ve never felt before with anyone.

Roots slither over my shoulders, the dark blue berries catching my eye that are scattered across them. A hazy memory tries to come forward. I remember him from the night of the accident, I think.

The monster I thought I saw above me in bed, which I blamed on a nightmare. I’m either dreaming right now, or I’m truly in a terrifying situation that I have no chance of escaping.

Not when it comes to the size of this beast.

I stand no chance.

I’m pinned against the wall before I have a chance to blink, a large palm is nestled between my shoulders, applying enough pressure to keep me still, but not enough to hurt me.

A chittering sound comes from him, mixed between a purr and a click. The clamor is quick, awakening an outcry of need inmy soul as if he is calling to me,forme, only I don’t know how to answer.

“Not even death would keep me away from what I desire most.” His breath is warm against the shell of my ear as his roots bind me to the wall. “You cannot escape me, Lulaaa,” he whispers my name in a way that would travel with the autumn leaves on a brisk wind—hushed with a soft crackle as the tones travel to find the perfect place beneath my bones.

“What do you want?” I whimper, wondering why the trail of his lips against the back of my neck only has me agonizing for more.

“Is it not obvious, My Dream?” His gargantuan hand curls around my shoulder, the tips of his black claws biting into my skin.

My breath comes out in shaking bursts. Lust is a partner to thrill, dancing inside my soul, and fighting for who takes the lead. A sensual battle that I know thrill will lose.

“Take what you want and go then.” I swallow, my throat dry as my breath becomes faster.

A sharp pain drags down my arm. Pushing through the fear, my eyes peer down, inhaling when I see his fingers rake down my arm. Thin red lines appear on my skin.

Easing the pain, he changes his touch. He flips his hand, the rough caress gone and replaced with the ease of his knuckles gliding up my arm, a gentle curiosity as if he is touching a person for the first time.

I’m transfixed.

I’m trapped within his roots.

Bound in his grasp.

And there’s nowhere for me to run.

I can’t turn around. I can’t see him for what he is. All I have is the wall holding me and the hope that whoever this man is, this creature, that he decides to let me go.

“Taking what I want isn’t so easy,” he says, grabbing the length of my dark brown hair.

Any attempts at moving are gone when he sniffs the strands, groaning, sounding like he has never smelled anything better.

I swallow, afraid for my finger to twitch because it might remind him that I’m here, that I’m alive, and listening to his every move.

His every breath.

With every intake, there’s a slight growl that follows, one that is pleased, one that climbs down my spine, one that allows lust to pool between my legs.

“You smell intoxxxicating.”

A tear breaks free from the pools filling my eyes.

“What’s wrong?” He drags his nose across the top of my head. “Are you afraid, Little Dream?” His wet tongue slides up my cheek, gathering the tears that have fallen. “You should be.” Finger by finger, each one curls around my throat until he has a firm grasp on me. “As I am your damnation.” One arm cages me in on the right side, his large bicep filling my vision.

“Your salvation.” The other arm locks the cage, pressing against the wall on the other side of me, trapping me further. “Your mutilation.” The sharp claw growing out of his thick, long finger cuts open the scab that was the healing scratch on my cheek.

It reaffirms that he has been here already, and the scratch that was there when I woke up to the sheriff banging on my door was caused by the monster inside my house.

He licks the blood from the wound, and damn it all, I lean into his touch, bending my head back to expose my neck for him.