24
“Wake up, little sin.”
My eyes fly open.
A hooded figure towers over me. The hood hangs low enough to cover his eyes, but I can see enough of his face to see his twisted smirk. His towering figure is dark and silently deadly.
I open my mouth to scream. Panic rises to the point where I can feel my heart thundering inside of my chest, but the cold hand on my mouth stops me. My muffled screams are quiet. Tears prick my eyes as I try to thrash in his hold, but I can’t move. His thick thighs are on either side of my hips, pinning me in place. I’ll probably be bruised tomorrow.
“Shh, wouldn’t want to wake up your mummy and let her see you like this now.”
That stops me. I know she would do exactly what Dad did to Aurora. She threw her out.
“Scared, are we? I thought you were strong,” he taunts. His words reach inside my chest, wrapping my heart in shadows until not even a speck of light peeks out. Draining me of life. Draining me of peace and filling it with fear and terror.
I shake my head, my chest heaving. As if he knows what I am thinking, his head dips low, taking in the skimpy gown I wear, and my breasts, which are almost spilling out of it.
Cold metal hits my stomach, making me flinch and freeze.
My eyes widen, my breathing stopping at once.
“Want to say something?” He chuckles, knowing I can’t speak. The laugh vibrates through my body.
I watch as he slowly draws small circles with the tip, climbing up my chest with the knife until he reaches my chin, forcing my head to tilt up. A pinch of pain sears through my jaw.
I stay still, careful not to move.
My breathing turns into quick, short pants.
“I won’t hurt you,” he murmurs, as if he isn’t holding a knife to my damn throat.
Placing the knife on my bedside desk, he leans forward.
The next second, I feel his mouth near my ear.
My heart sprints louder than ever in my ear. The flicker of fright in me doesn’t go anywhere, and with the knife close by, I know he can kill me if he wants to.
Who would even care if I was gone?
No one.
And the sad reality hits me hard.
Something hot and wet touches the side of my neck.
His body feels so familiar. He feels like Helia and my heart stutters.
His tongue draws a small circle on my neck, and my heart twists inside of me for a different reason. A shameful reason.
“You taste just as I imagined, little sin. Sinful, intoxicating, addictive.” His deep voice is so strong, so masculine that it lights up a hot need in the pit of my stomach. My legs twist at his words.
Why do I feel turned on?
“I’ve wanted to hold you for so long.” His tongue travels up my throat, then curls around the shell of my ear. “So, so long,” he whispers, his hot breath fanning my ear. “And now you aren’t fighting enough.” His warm, wet tongue goes under my jaw until I feel him scrape his teeth, and that need starts throbbing in between my legs.
I shut my eyes.
Ashamed.
So fucking ashamed.
“Do you want this? Do you want me to take away this attitude you have?”
He lets go of my mouth, and just as I am about to scream profanities, he clamps down on my neck, making a gasp erupt from my lips.
I feel him smile against my neck.
His hand travels down all the way to my thighs, then he raises the hem of my gown.
“No, please, stop.”
He shakes his head, tilting it as if to say, you really think I will stop?
His cold hand against my warm skin sends tingling desire through me. Hot, disgusting, and perverted.
He’s a killer, a stalker, for crying out loud.
What am I doing?
I shut my eyes, a troubled sigh leaving me.
“Helia, I—”
My stalker stops, and my eyes snap open.
Helia.
I said his fucking name.
His head snaps up, and I can feel anger rolling off him. I start to panic all over again.
His hand is at my throat, cutting off my oxygen.
“No, please—”
His other hand drops down to my hem, roughly pushing it up and finding me soaking wet despite the fear I have for my life. A deep chuckle escapes past his lips, the sound absolutely terrifying.
“Soaking like a fucking slut? You still want to be fucked, even if I could kill you within a second?”
I shake my head side to side, trying to twist out of his hold but failing to do so.
“No, let me go.”
My eyes have adjusted to the dim light, and his face becomes clear to me. He looks like Helia; his smirk, his jaw, his rough hands that grab my thighs and push them apart.
He leans down, and even more wetness pools when I find his eyes peeking from beneath his hood. Green. Emerald green. He watches me dirty the sheets, twisting my legs, but his hold is like iron. Hot and strong. He exhales on my pussy, circling it with two thick fingers.
A whimper falls from my lips.
“Please.” I try to push my hips up and away from him.
He thrusts two fingers right into me at once.
I choke, feeling full at the stretch. I have only been with one person in my life sexually, and it wasn’t recently. His fingers thrust in and out of me ruthlessly. Then those thick, long fingers twist inside of me, and my toes curl at the painful pleasure.
“You seem to be loving this. What would happen if I just—”
“No!” I jerk up in bed.
My skimpy gown is stuck to me, and sweat covers my back. Cold shivers run through my body.
A dream.
I was having a dream where my stalker was Helia. I run a hand through my hair, my breathing quickening with every passing thought. Why him, of all people? Why would he star in my dream when I despise him?
Rushing to the shower, the faint glow of the sun rising makes me forget about going back to bed.
But how can I forget the moment my brain thought that Helia was my stalker? How could that be?
My burning body cools under the cold water, and when I am brushing my hair after getting ready, my eyes fall onto my bed. I gasp, then my mouth drops open at the wet spot. I was turned on from that; from the thought of Helia touching me. So much that my arousal had dripped down my thighs.
Then I saw the rolled up paper with a green ribbon around it beside my balcony door.
I run towards it and hastily unroll it.
Pleasure looks beautiful on your face.
My mouth drops open as my head snaps toward the balcony. It’s daylight outside. He won’t be here, and yet still my heart cracks with fear that he stood here.
He heard me.
He stayed.
And he watched me.
Needles prick my skin, a cold shiver running up my body. I tremble with such fear that my knees weaken. I take deep breaths in and out, calming myself before getting ready for the day, but not before rushing to get the sheets off the bed and into the laundry. I hurry around, not wanting to listen to my mother’s morning lecture, and head out.
I am out of my mind.
Who could it be?
And why does my stalker show up day after day?
I think I’ve spent too long looking at Helia if I’ve started fantasising about him like that.
My fingers fidget with the watch on my wrist as I walk towards the elevator.
How could I?
I’m disgusted to even think about him like that. I was turned on by the thought of Helia taking me against my will. I need serious help.
The elevator dings open in front of me.
“Morning.” The familiar smoky voice from over my shoulder has me straightening.
Helia walks inside, turning around to face me with a grin on his face. He motions to the space next to him, amusement flashing in his emerald eyes. Hesitantly, I step inside and stand next to him, my heart pounding like I’ve just run a marathon. My eyes keep finding him in the elevator doors, and I look away each time. I never do that.
Something is wrong with me today.
As the numbers slowly go up, I feel my body burning up, his presence loud yet calm. His strong musky cologne fills up my chest, expanding it in a way that I crave more.
He shifts, taking out his phone from his pocket, and I notice that too.
My breathing doesn’t slow down at all.
He pockets his phone, his arm brushing against my own, and I have to stop myself from flinching.
Sweat breaks out on the back of my neck.
Just two more floors.
One more.
Ding.
Finally.
The door opens, and I let out the biggest breath, making Helia look at me sideways as he makes his way towards his office.
“In my office, Ambrose.” His command is clear, but I know I will need to give him his schedule for the day.
Grabbing my things, I head into his office a few minutes later. He is on his phone when he notices me.
Walking around the table, my voice is shaky as I speak the first few sentences. My eyes fall on him rolling up his sleeves, and it makes me swallow thickly.
“Today you have a board meeting to update everyone on how everything is going within the company.” As I detail his day, I feel him watching me from his position.
My eyes slide to his, and I catch him looking. Shamelessly. He doesn’t look away, either.
His head is tilted. Just like the stalker in my dream.
God. I need this dream to vanish from my memories.
“Is there something you need to tell me, Ambrose?” There is something about the way he asks this sentence. It’s as if he knows what I am thinking, but I shake my head.
“Why? Did I forget something?” I am never this civil with him.
Helia narrows his eyes and leans forward.
Then he stands up to his full, towering height. A creature of the night that feeds on the fear of people, smiling with bloody lips as he breaks you in two pieces for his own maddening thirst.
“No. But you keep looking at me like you are hiding something.”
I scoff, moving away, only for him to grab my wrist and turn me around, smashing me against his chest.
“I don’t like liars, Ambrose.” His voice drops an octave.
I try to free my wrist, but he holds it tighter.
“Let go, Helia.”
He brings his face closer to mine. “Not until you tell me what you are hiding.”
“It’s nothing,”
He lifts a brow, clearly not believing my lies. He turns me around until my front is against the table, then bends me forward with his hand clasped at the back of my neck until my cheek touches the table.
“W-What are you doing?” I stutter, like a child.
I need help. I need serious, serious help.
He steps into me, letting me feel every single thick inch of his warm body.
“I don’t want lies, Ambrose. I won’t stop until you tell me.”
“How would you know? What if I was lying about not poisoning your coffee?”
He chuckles against my ear, his chin resting on my shoulder, the strong grip on my neck still not letting me look back at him.
“Oh, I know. The way you have been looking at me all morning? That’s not the look of a poisoner. It’s the look of someone who is desperately begging for a fuck. Do you want me to fuck you, Ambrose?”
My breath catches in my throat, my body going still.
He presses harder against me, but I don’t admit anything.
Was I that obvious?
Neither of us has admitted anything, despite what has happened between us in the past. In the office. The night of Aurora’s birthday.
How could I ever hope for anything when Helia is not my final destination? How could we ever believe anything would come from hot, poisonous flames?
We’d only get burned in the end.
“Why would I want you to fuck me when I hate the very sight of you?”
His laugh is loud, booming in the office, and then I feel it. His cock straining in his trousers against my ass.
“Just like I want to fuck you every time I see you, and yet I still want to claw my hand into your chest to kill you for making me desire you, for being an inconvenience in my life.” He rolls his hips into me, and my mouth falls open at the sheer length and girth of his cock.
If we were to ever fuck, I don’t know how he would fit. He will have to force his way in, and I know for a fact that Helia isn’t one to go slow.
“I will never make that mistake,” I manage to say.
His hand tightens around my throat, and he thrusts against my ass.
Fuck.
“What—”
I feel his lips on my neck, robbing me of any coherent thoughts.
His kisses are light before he sucks sharply.
He keeps sucking, grazing his teeth across my skin, making my legs twist under me, desire pooling in between them.
“Helia,” I whimper.
This isn’t how it’s supposed to go.
We aren’t supposed to do this.
What am I doing standing here and feeling my body desire him?
“Admit it, or I will not let you go until I mark every inch of your milky skin,” he says against my skin.
“No. We are in the office,” I continue, but he growls, his teeth grabbing hold of my skin at the junction of my shoulder.
“Does it look like I give a fuck, Ambrose?”
No. No, he doesn’t.
He nibbles on that part before he lets go and runs his hot, wet tongue over the bite as if to soothe it. I know I will be covered by many hickeys if I don’t capitulate.
“If given the chance, I would fuck you here on the table so everyone outside knows that you belong to me.” He mutters, his hand sprawled on my stomach, making me sigh in pleasure.
“Admit it, Ambrose.”
His mouth latches onto the other side of my neck.
I can’t have hickeys on display. My concealer can only hide so much. But he keeps going. He isn’t stopping. His fingers on my stomach create small erotic circles that almost make me moan.
No. Stop.
If he doesn’t stop, I might give in, and I don’t want to lose this battle.
“Fine. Fuck,” I snap.
He stops.
Waiting.
My harsh breaths echo in the office, the soft chatter from outside reminding me where we are. A laugh bounces around every once in a while, but there is only silence in Helia’s office.
“I dreamt of you, in my bed, using… a knife to cut through…” I swallow. “Cut through my shirt.”
His hands all fall from my body, and he steps back.
He’s disgusted. He will fire me for admitting this. I know it.
Then a loud laugh booms through the office. I turn around and pin him with a glare.
“Oh, my little emerald likes knives,” he murmurs before grabbing hold of the back of my neck and pressing a kiss to the corner of my lips.
“You—” He clamps a hand on my mouth, silencing my protests. “No fighting right now, baby. Not when you have given me this answer.” A twisted smirk plays at his lips.
He’s pleased.
A smile of a winner.
My heart dips.
What did I do?
I have a very bad feeling that if Helia ever held me like that again, he will get me to do anything he likes. If he smiles down at me like a man who has won everything, I will fall to my knees for him.
And that’s fucking scary.