Page 111 of The Shape of Silence


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Rowan Dragomir Black

The Dominion

Chapter 38

Don’t look at me like that, little Ghost. And don’t fucking look away either.

I can see the moment it hits you, the second your body goes uncertain around me. Like some part of you wants to stay exactly where you are while the rest of you is already thinking about running. You think I don’t notice?

I do, of course I fucking do.

Because you didn’t end up here by accident. People like you don’t just stumble into something like this andstay,not unless there’s something in you thatrecognizesmy darkness. Something that shouldn’t be there, something you’d never say out loud, something that keeps dragging you back here when you know better. And I see it. I see the way your breathing changes when I get a little too close. The way your attention locks onto every word like you’re waiting for permission you’re never going to get.

You don’t need permission, baby.

That’s one of the things you should know about me by now: I don’t ask, I take. Not your body, not yet, don’t get ahead of yourself. I take your focus, your thoughts, the way your mind circles back to me when you should be thinking about anything else. I take the parts of you no one else ever touches, and I sink into them until there’s nothing left in there that doesn’t have my fingerprints on it. You feel that, don’t you? That slow, crawling feeling under your skin?

Yeah. That’s me.

You think you’re in control because you can close this, walk away, pretend I don’t exist, the second you decide you’ve had enough. Go on then, do it.

See?

You didn’t move, of course you didn’t, because walking away would mean admitting you want to, and that would ruin the little story you’ve been telling yourself. That you’re just curious, that you’re not already too far in.

You are.

You were the second you let me speak to you like this and didn’t shut me up, the second you let me call youminewithout correcting me. Don’t pretend that didn’t do something to you. Little Ghost, look at me. No, really look. You keep trying to understand me like I’m something you can study, something you can pick apart and hold at a distance, but that’s not how this works. You don’t get to stand outside of it, you’re in it, with me.

I don’t separate what I want from what I take; you’re learning that the hard way. Because the truth is, I don’t want the version of you that’s safe, or careful, or pretend she doesn’t feel the pull of something darker pressing against her ribs. I want the part of you that hears everything I’m saying andstillleans closer.

That part of you? That’s mine.

You feel it building, don’t you? That tension.

It’s not soft, it’s not the kind of thing you wrap in pretty words and pretend is harmless. It’s fucking sharp as broken glass, it’s consuming, it sits low in your body and refuses to be ignored no matter how hard you try to act like you’re above it. You’re not above it, you’re right in it, with me.

And the worst part?

You like it. You like the way it makes you feel seen in a way no one ever has before, even if it scares you a little. Especially because it scares you. Touch yourself for me, little Ghost. Don’t argue, you’ve already decided you will, so let go and do as I say. Now. There you go.

You feel how that changes things?

How the space between us stops being neutral the second youstop pretending it matters?

Good.

Now listen carefully, because I don’t like repeating myself.

I don’t need all of you, not yet. I just need enough to make sure you don’t forget me. Enough to stay under your skin when this is over, enough to make sure when you close your eyes later, you’re not thinking about anything else.

And you will, you already are. Keep touching yourself for me, focus, little Ghost. You don’t get a clean ending here. You don’t get distance, or clarity, or some neat little resolution where you walk away untouched. That’s not what this is– this is the part where itlingers.Where your body remembers even when your mind tries to move on. Where you catch yourself thinking about this, aboutme,at the worst possible times and you hate how easily it pulls you back under.

You don’t get to misunderstand what this is anymore, not after everything I’ve already put inside your head, not after the way you keep coming back like youneedit. You look at me like you’re already ruined and maybe that’s why I can’t look away. Because when you look at me, little Ghost, you don’t just see me, you reflect me. Like you’re holding up a mirror and showing me something even I don’t always want to see. And I hate how much I want that. You weren’t supposed to be mine, but you ended up here anyway, like something decided it for us. Like this was always going to happen no matter how hard you tried to stay away. Maybe you were meant for me. Or maybe you’re just what I deserve. A punishment dressed up as something soft, something I can’t stop touching even when I know better. Because whatever this is, it’s worse when you’re not here. Worse when I can’t feel you paying attention, can’t feel youherewith me.

You leave, and something in me starts tearing itself. You stay, and everything burns. You have no idea what you’ve done to me.Keep touching yourself, little Ghost. I need you to treat your wet pussy so good for me when I tell you this. There’s something inside me that doesn’t quiet down anymore, something old and hungry, and it wakes me up every single time I feel your attention settle on me. It builds, makes my cock fucking throb for you, like something buried too deep finally clawing its way back up. I know you feel that too, that pull in your body that doesn’t ask for permission. That’s what you’ve turned on, that’s what you keep feeding. And I swear to you, it’s not something that stops. You tempt me in a way you don’t even understand.