Page 54 of Phantasm

An ache starts up in my heart as my thoughts drift to the man in the other wing. What is he doing now? Is he asleep?

Struck by the urge to see him, I disentangle myself. “You should get some sleep. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

Lauren wipes tears from her cheeks, then glances behind her at the bed. She turns back and gestures to the room. “Thank you for this. I’m really grateful.”

“It was all Darian.” I squeeze her hand. “Try to get some rest.”

“Goodnight,” she says as I exit the room and hurry toward Darian’s wing.

It’s a quiet night, with no wind whistling through the windows or trees tapping insistently against the glass. I turn left and pad softly on bare feet down the hallway until I reach his room. A muted light spills onto the floor through the gap in the door, suggesting he’s either awake or sleeping with the light on.

I carefully push down on the handle and peek inside. Anyone else would knock, but I still haven’t decided if I’m brave enough to talk to him or if I simply want to spy on him without his knowledge.

He’s not in bed, and the room is empty.

Curious, I inch inside, sweeping my gaze over every piece of furniture. Although I’ve been in his room before, something feels different tonight.

Theairis different and smells of him, heady and warm—an alluring scent that settles in my nostrils like a seductive trail of kisses on the curve of my neck. I shiver as I glance at his unmade bed, the sheets creased and inviting.

I take a step forward, but I gasp when a hand clamps over my mouth from behind, pulling me against a firm chest. Darian’s low voice reaches my ear. “Did you think you could sneak in and kill me?”

A shiver runs through me as I feel his hard length press against my lower back.

His fingers trail a teasing path up the inside of my thigh, lifting my skirt as his other hand covers my mouth to muffle my whimpers.

“How were you going to do it? Shoot me?”

My knees nearly buckle when his fingers drag over my panties in a slow tease with enough pressure to make my clit pulse, yet it’s not enough.

“Stab me in my sleep?”

He smacks my clit, and my muffled cry fills the room.

“With what weapon, Mrs. Delacroix? You’re not very prepared.” Shifting my panties aside, he palms my pussy while chuckling in my ear. “So wet for me already.”

In a swift move, he spins me around and grips my throat, backing me toward the bed. I claw at his wrist, desperate for a sliver of breath, but he remains an unmovable mountain.

When my calves connect with the bed, he shoves me, and I topple back, bouncing on the mattress. Before I can catch my breath or sit up, he kneels over me and presses a pillow over my face.

“Maybe you planned to smother me to death? Like this?”

Panicked, I kick out with my feet and buck my hips, but I can’t shift him no matter how hard I thrash. I can’t breathe. I can’t…

Darian growls as he bats off my grappling hands, then smacks my thighs apart to squeeze my pussy. “Such a wet little cunt. You like this, don’t you, Mrs. Delacroix? You like a firm hand.” He slaps my cunt hard, and I freeze for a moment before my fight renews.

As his grip on the pillow loosens, I inhale greedily, but he immediately covers my face with his large hand. I bite down on the fabric, but the cushion is too thick.

Darian laughs coldly and slides his middle finger inside my cunt. “Fuck, baby. You’re worked up, huh.”

A shameful moan slips from my lips because he’s right, and I bite down on my tongue to stop it, but it’s too late. My fight has ceased, and now I’m squirming instead—squirming for more.

Darian removes the pillow and pats me on the cheek. “Good little wife.”

“Fuck you!” I sneer, angling my hips to take his pumping finger deeper. “Dammit, why do you have to be such an asshole?”

“Would you love this so much if I weren’t?” he asks, stretching me with a second finger. “Look at what a mess you’re making of my hand. Such a dirty little slut.”

I push up on my elbow and reach for him, but he smacks my hand away and grabs my chin. When pain erupts where his fingers dig in, I find myself moaning.