Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 24966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
He’d been watching me, creeping into my personal space. My very life.
I clenched the knife tighter, proud that my hand wasn’t shaking. “Who the hell are you, and what do you want from me?”
He kept that smug smile on his face but said nothing. He just had this dangerous gleam in his eyes. “Roman.”
The way he said his name, it felt like it was a lewd comment, a jarring and sharp cut in my core. I refused to give him any satisfaction at acknowledging who he was.
Instead of saying a word, I moved before he could and swiped out at him, slashing the knife across his arm, cutting through the sleeve of his jacket and biting into his skin.
Although I knew it hurt him, Roman didn’t react. He looked down at the cut, his blood looking black and thick in the shadowy alley as it dripped onto the pavement. For a moment, I froze, staring at the inky trail.
But then he chuckled, low and dark, his gaze locked on mine. Slowly, deliberately, he swiped his fingers through the blood on his arm, and before I could react, he smeared it across his lips. He was on me a second later, pressing my back to the brick once more and slamming his lips on mine.
He shoved his tongue into my mouth and gripped both of my wrists in his hands, lifting them above my head and holding them painfully against the building. The knife fell from my grasp, and I felt the loss of my weapon like it was my only hope.
I gasped, recoiling as I tried to turn my head. But at the first swipe of his tongue against mine and the flavor of his blood in my mouth, something shifted and smoldered with welcomed heat. I didn't know what in the hell was happening, but I wasn’t fighting him any longer.
I was submitting to this monster.
He pulled back, and I was too stunned to do anything but stand there, shocked and dazed, watching him gather more blood on his fingers and smear it all over my cheeks, lips, and jaw.
Reality crashed into me, and I pushed him back with all my strength. Maybe he let me. Maybe I took him by surprise. Either way, I was already running in the other direction. All I could hear was my panting and my feet pounding against the pavement.
I didn’t stop to see if he followed. I was sure he would. Maybe I was too stupid because here I was heading inside my apartment and slamming the door behind me. I rested back against the door and closed my eyes, shaking my head even though I didn’t know what the fuck was going on.
I stumbled away from the door and turned to stare at it, expecting him to bust through the flimsy shield at any second. But when nothing happened, I exhaled again and moved toward the bathroom. My hand shook as I slid it across the wall and turned on the light switch.
I stared at my reflection, my eyes big and wild. I touched my face. His blood was there, smeared in gruesome streaks, staining the lower half of my face. My stomach twisted, a mix of horror and something darker I couldn’t name taking over. I should’ve scrubbed his blood off right away. I should have washed away the sick feeling of his coppery-flavored kiss from my lips.
Instead, I stood there staring at myself in the mirror, his blood partially dried on my lips, a vivid reminder of what he’d—we’d—done spiraling in my mind.
Before I even realized what I was doing, I ran my tongue over my lips, tasting the blood. It was bitter, metallic, and oh-so wrong.
But I didn’t stop until I licked myself clean.
8
ROMAN
Iwatched her run.
I let her go.
Tonight. It had to be tonight that I figured out what there was about her that made me obsessed.
I’d fuck her… or kill her. Or maybe I’d do both.
I gave her time to get home, to feel comfortable and safe, and only then did I follow. I was in her house as easily as every other time. But when I closed the door, I heard the slight clinking and noticed a brand-new chain lock. But it hadn’t been latched in place, and I wondered if she’d been too terrified that she’d forgotten.
I reached in my pocket, pulled out the syringe that had the sedative I’d inject her with, and made my way silently through her living room. The syringe was cool in my hand as I gripped it, ready to subdue her, to make sure she didn’t wake too soon. I had a lot of plans for her tonight, and in the end, I didn’t know if I’d kill her.
I reached the door to her room, nudging it open slowly, quietly, savoring the moment.