My head swivels to her. “He’s been standing on your balcony?”
She rolls her lips in, her eyes widening as she shakes her head. “Nope. Not at all.”
I release a breath, closing my eyes. “Don’t scare me like that.”
“Sorry,” she winces.
“I’m just going to come out and say it. He has an obsession with breaking and entering.” I stare at her, waiting for the dots to connect. When she blinks at me, I rub a hand across the back of my neck. “He’s obsessed with breaking and entering and…usingsomeone.”
“Using them for what?” She asks innocently.
Fuck me.
Kairo groans, rubbing a hand across his eyes. “He has CNC fantasies. It’s short for consensual-non-consensual. He’s also into somnophilia, which is where the person is asleep while being touched and fucked. We’re telling you this because it’s worse when he’s drunk.”
Rosalie’s mouth forms a cute little ‘o’ shape as she blushes. “That’s…different.”
“It’s gotten him into trouble before,” I warn. “If he tries anything, just shout for me. I’ll stop him.”
She nods, but as she turns to face the window, I catch the small smirk tugging at her red lips. I don’t know what it means, but something tells me this whole conversation was an open door instead of a closed one.
Chapter Thirty-One
Rosalie
This is fucked.
I shouldn’t be thinking about doing this.
But I don’t stop myself as I slide the lock pick onto my balcony table. I stare at it, anticipation swirling in my stomach as I close my robe over my chest.
Roman disclosed something very important and private about his friend, and here I am, encouraging it because I thought it was hot. I’m ashamed to admit it, but the whole act seemed…intriguing.
None of my past relationships have ever been into anything crazy. Not that I’m in a relationship with Maddox or anything, but damn! Can’t a woman live a little? Well, this is my way of living.
The lock pick is my consent to this being done to me. Anyway, Maddox wants it. I’m a blank canvas, and it’s exciting as I close and lock my doors.
I shed my robe before sliding into bed and waiting. As the time ticks by, I grow increasingly more concerned that he isn’t going to show. Once an hour passes, my eyes grow heavy, and the moon pokes out of the clouds just beyond my balcony doors. Disappointment tugs at me as I shift around and pull the blanket up to my shoulders.
“It’s stupid anyway,” I grumble as sleep pulls me under.
Something clicks in the distance, but my mind is hazed with fog. I’m in the space between sleep and awake, where I could easily just ignore my surroundings and drift off. Butwhen the unmistakable sound of my balcony door creaking open reaches me, I shoot up in bed.
I squint into the darkness shrouding my room, the red glow of Maddox’s mask serving as the only light as he stands in the open doorway. His chest heaves with his breath as he holds the lock pick in one hand and a syringe in the other.
Wait. Why does he have that?
The clear liquid in the vial makes my pulse pound in my neck as blood rushes past my ears. Alarms blare in my head at the danger, and my fight or flight kicks in as I flip over and scurry across the bed. I’ve just reached the edge when boots stomp in my direction.
My heart revs when a gloved hand closes around my ankle, and I’m dragged back down the bed until my feet hit the floor and a wide chest covers my back. I open my mouth to scream, only to choke when he shoves two gloved fingers past my lips. The invasion is too much, and I can feel the cool plastic of his mask on the side of my face.
“Don’t scream, Songbird,” Maddox growls lowly in my ear, causing me to shudder. “I loved the little present you left for me. I didn’t have to break your door handle as I had planned. Can I take my fingers out of your mouth without you screaming for help?”
I nod, tears dotting my lashes.
“You’re going to be my good girl, okay?” He coos as he eases his digits from between my lips. A trail of saliva connects to me, and I suck in a breath.
“What are you going to do to me?” My whisper is shaky, my voice portraying my slight fear.
