“Why would I do that?”
“Don’t you want a way out?”
A breath came out shakier than I would have liked, but I forced my body to comply. I bent over the desk, my elbows and palms pressing against the dark wood. I could only focus on the intricate details carved into the surface.
The wet fabric clung to my chest and thighs, reminding me how sticky and cold I was. The cuts and scrapes tingled against the liquor-soaked fabric.
My legs wavered. It could have been from anticipation, or maybe it was from the high of the chase. I would have described it as anything except fear, though that certainly played a part.
He stepped to the other side of the desk.
“If you lift a single elbow or palm,” he started, tucking some hair behind my ear, “I will kill you. Do you understand me?”
“How do I win?” I glared, my palms trembling against the desk.
“The prize is that you get to choose when you die, and I will make it quick, a kindness not afforded to many,” he said sweetly. “Remember, palms and elbows.” He tapped the wood of the desk twice before turning on his heel.
He left me there.
Bent over his desk.
Shivering and alone.
The night creptby like a slug across a block of salt.
Slowly, the morning light loomed over me in a blanket of light. I gave up on holding myself up. It would not be so bad if I just laid my head on the desk. With heavy eyelids, I finally allowed myself some rest as the fear of the demon somewhere in the house faded from my mind.
“Good morning,” a low voice whispered in my ear. Silas’s voice sounded like it was still waking up. It echoed in my head as he spoke to me. My eyes did not open until his hands were placed on my hips.
“What are you doing?” I tilted my head to peer over my shoulder.
“I’m being polite. Do you not say good morning?”
“You know very well what I am speaking of.”
“Oh.” I could hear the smugness in his tone. “Do you mean this?” His hands moved lower, reaching down to hike up my skirt.
“You filthy pest!” I gasped, squirming in place, but my heart leaped when I realized I had almost moved my arms from the desk. I glared over my shoulder. “You’re cheating again.”
“If I remember correctly, there was only one rule.” He leaned over me and pressed his chest against my back. He moved his hand between my thighs, gently playing with the hem of one of my stockings.
I wanted to clench my fists, but that would mean moving my palms. He was toying with me, hoping I would move.
He would not dare do anything. He could fondle me all he wanted, but I was not moving.
His fingers moved higher on my thigh. The touches reached the opening in my underclothes, leaving soft traces along the sensitive skin.
I flinched, but I did not move from my place.
“Am I making you nervous?” he asked, breathing deep as he buried his face in my hair.
“I’m not nervous,” I croaked tiredly.
His other hand gathered the hair at the back of my head, pulling my head back so he could reach my ear. “Oh, my dearest Alina... I want to do such terrible, sickening things to you. I hope you know that.”
His hot breath tickled my earlobe as that bizarre tongue reached out, extending so that he could lick my cheek, probably to taste the sticky bourbon left over from the night before.
“I do not fear you.”
