Page 3 of Unholy Night
With the music so loud, I barely hear him speak. While I’m scared shitless, there’s no tears or pleas for him to spare me. My only request is to shut the fucking music off. In a moment of insanity, I attempt to bite his hand.
He jerks away, spinning me around until we’re face to face.
Our gazes collide, but his blue eyes are the only thing I see. They darken the longer we watch each other, his pupils blown wide. He’s wearing a black and white skull mask, his features hidden behind the fabric, and something shifts inside me. The panic is still there, but every nerve ending in my body lights up at the sight of him and I can’t ignore the arousal between my legs.
What the hell is wrong with me?
He’s broken into my house, wearing a mask and I’m naked as the day I was born, held captive in his embrace. He takes a step back, his eyes roaming down my body. My thighs clench, the slickness between them becoming more evident. He groans when he catches the movement, and my face flames with embarrassment.
I have to get out of here.
My feet begin moving backwards but they come to a stop when he pulls a knife from his side, tapping it against his thigh.
“Now, now, Bells. If you try to run, I’ll catch you and ruin this beautiful fucking body.” He holds the knife between us, trailing the tip down the valley of my breasts. He circles my left nipple, sending a shiver down my spine.
Startled by the use of my nickname, I gasp as the point scratches across my skin.
It’s both horrifying and exhilarating.
I’ve lost my mind.
“My husband will be home soon.” I blurt out with more confidence than I feel.
“No, he won’t.” His deep voice sends goosebumps erupting across my skin. His eyes crinkle at the edges and I know he’s smiling, which is disturbing.
He trails the cold metal down my torso, circling my navel and doesn’t stop until he reaches my clit. A whimper escapes my lips as he steps closer, running his nose up the side of my neck, inhaling deeply. To my advantage, he probably didn’t hear it because of the music. His touch gave me a reprieve and I tuned it out for a few moments, but now I can’t focus again, and my hands fly up to cover my ears. Scrunching my eyes closed, I try to focus on anything other than the creepy fucking Christmas music. I’ve always loved the holiday, but this is too much. I can’t handle it.
He grips my wrists, pulling them down and I realize he’s turned down the music.
“Your fear is so fucking intoxicating.” He nips my jaw before flattening his tongue, licking the side of my face.
My body goes rigid.
“Your panic has my cock leaking. Get on the bed, now.”
“W-what?” I stammer, shaking my head vehemently.
He grips my bicep with his free hand, a slight jolt of pain making me realize I shouldn’t have questioned him.
“Get on the fucking bed, now.” He growls. “I won’t repeat myself again.”
He releases his hold, and I back away from him slowly, my shaky knees meeting the edge of the mattress. I fall onto the soft memory foam, my head spinning with what’s happening.
“Lie on your back, arms above your head, legs spread.”
Obeying him for fear of the consequences, I watch in silence as he rips the decorative colored lights from the bedroom wall, making me flinch. I’m surprised they’re still lit, and he didn’tpull them from the plug. He comes to the edge of the bed, wrapping the string of lights around my wrists, winding them through the slots in the headboard. I tug at the binding, but I freeze when I realize how tight they are. The more I struggle, the tighter they become. He takes a step back, reaching out, gliding his rough fingertips up my thigh. “That’s my girl.”
His praise sends unwanted jolts of electricity down south, and I close my eyes and thighs at the onslaught of emotions plaguing me in this moment.
He rips my legs open, a loud crack sounding in the quiet room, and I yelp as he slaps my pussy,hard. “Eyes on me.” He tilts his head to the side, and though it’s dark, I know he’s watching my face. “Your cunt is gushing.”
Heat flares across my skin, and I feel like I may burst into flames. He slaps my pussy again and I’m horrified at the moan that slips past my lips.
He chuckles darkly and the flush spreads down my neck, across my chest. “Such a good, little slut. Your pussy is weeping for me. You’re aching, aren’t you?”
My heart pounds in my chest. I should be offended, humiliated. Instead, his degrading words ignite a fire in my blood, sending little flutters straight to my core.
My hips rise off the mattress as his finger glides easily through my slit. Obscene sounds reach my ears as he slides two fingers inside me slowly. Momentarily forgetting the situation I’m in, I’m lost in the pleasure my captor is giving me. “Please.” I moan.