Page 45 of Shadowed With Fear

“Dahlia,” his chuckle is dark, full of promise. “I could make you feel so good, little flower, you’d be begging me for pain to take it away.”

A breathy moan tumbles past my lips. Through my tank top, my nipples have hardened into peaks, and there is a distinct slickness between my thighs.

But I laugh. “Hmm, I’m not so inclined to believe you, Shadow.”

“I think you’re scared to find out.” He taunts.

“Maybe. Or maybe I think I could make myself cum harder than you could.” I say to him as my hand caresses the valley between my tits. A sigh is breathed into the speaker.

“Would you like another show, Shadow? I could prove I’m right; you just have to watch.”

He makes a strangled noise in my ear before the line cuts.

I rise up, staring at my phone. Racing to the window, I look out to the spot where he was standing just moments before, and my stomach drops. He’s gone.

“Fuck,” I mumble, defeated.

Inhaling deeply, I crumpled into myself on the bed.

Of course, he wouldn’t want to do that. I’m so fucking stupid. Just when I thought we were getting somewhere, I fucked it up.

It takes everything to keep the tears pooling in my eyes to not spill over my cheeks.

Gentle fingers touch my chin. I jumped back to see him standing before me. Looming above, a direct reversal to our position earlier, the very one I had daydreamed about for days.

“Little flower, why are you upset?” His thumb traces along the high point of my cheek, sending a flash of heat through my body.

“I thought— “

“You thought I would walk away from the sexiest woman I have ever met offering to show me the most intimate moment she could share with someone?” His head tilts to the side. “My sweet girl, you’ve tempted me. The juiciest, ripest forbidden fruit. And I am nothing but a starving man.”

I glance down, tucking a hair behind my ear. My face is burning, and it trails down my chest, settling low in my belly. There is so much need coursing through my veins. Each word that spills from his mouth is a sinister promise that I want nothing more than to test.

“What’re you going to do to me?”

He chuckles, leaning closer to me, so our eyes are level. For the first time, I can see them. They are a startling blue in the dim light of my room. Almost white with how bright they glow. It’s nothing like I expected. I thought they would be so dark they would be nearing black, the same color as the voids painted on the face he wears each day.

“I’m not going to do anything, you promised me a show. I’m here to collect.” He stands straight, walking backward on silent feet to the desk chair near my window. He grips the back in one large hand, spinning it to face me. His hands.

I never thought I would be a girl that would drool over something as mundane as a hand, but goddamn. They’re beautiful. Works of art. Thick veins run across the back, leading to lithe fingers. An artists’ hands. Only this artist uses the gleaming metal lacing each finger to paint his masterpieces. Love notes to me written in spindled writing and marred flesh.

“You,” I swallow. “You’re going to watch?” My brows furrow.

He hums, nodding. “Every fucking second. You said you could make yourself cum harder than I can. I only believe when I see, sweet girl. And I’m going to watch it fucking all.”

My nod is jerky, but I agree.

“How— “I take a large gulp of air, straightening my spine, lifting my head higher. “How do you want me, Shadow?”

Without a second thought he responds, “Every fucking way, Dahlia.”

My eyes droop. Electricity sliding across my limbs. Gripping the bottom of my tank top, I lift it swiftly over my head, pulling my dark curls to one shoulder.

He hisses a breath. Hands clenching on his thighs. It causes me to smile.

“You gotta stop doing that if you want your turn, Dahlia.” He chastises. I raise my brow.

“Doing what?” Challenging him.