My Bloody Valentine

21. Maya

21

MAYA

H ot water cascades over my shoulders as I try to wash away the confusion clouding my mind. Adrian has stocked the marble shower with expensive products. Still, I cling to my jasmine shampoo—one small piece of normalcy in this beautiful nightmare. The familiar scent grounds me and reminds me of who I used to be before him.

I step out, wrapping myself in a plush towel that costs more than my monthly rent. Water drips onto the heated floor as I work another towel through my dark hair. Everything in this suite screams luxury and wealth, from the rainfall shower to the designer toiletries lined up with military precision.

Wiping steam from the gilded mirror, I stare at my reflection. The woman looking back is someone I barely recognize. A wildness in her eyes and a flush to her cheeks speaks of more than the hot shower. She’s transforming into something else entirely.

My fingers trace the marks he’s left on my skin, stark against my shower-pink flesh. Each one tells a story of submission, of choices I can’t untangle. Am I playing a survival game, pretending to want him just to stay alive? Or has something dark awakened inside me?

“You’re losing it, Maya,” I whisper to my reflection. The rational part of my brain screams that I should be horrified, disgusted, trying to escape. He’s a killer. His chocolates... I shudder remembering the truth about his special ingredient.

But then there’s that other part. The part that recognized something in the taste of his blood, that understood the depth of emotion he captures in his creations. That part of me wants to dive deeper into his darkness.

The footsteps in the hallway make my heart race, but they pass by. Adrian’s been gone for hours, probably in his workshop, crafting more delicacies. I pace the room, running my hands through my tangled hair.

The walls of this beautiful prison close in. Artwork worth more than my yearly salary mocks me with its perfection. Everything here is calculated and curated—just like Adrian himself.

The woman staring back in the mirror someone I barely recognize. There’s a wildness in her eyes, a flush to her cheeks that speaks of more than fear. She’s transforming into something else entirely.

My stomach churns as I wonder how many others have stood in this room before me. Did they stare into this same mirror, watching themselves change? Did they feel this same intoxicating mix of terror and desire? The pristine surfaces and perfect arrangements suddenly feel sinister—how many women has he brought here, played with, before they disappeared into his special chocolate collection?

My fingers press against the cool glass. “What are you becoming?” I ask my reflection. “Just another ingredient in his twisted recipes?” The answer lurks in the shadows of my mind, in the hollow spaces where morality used to live.

The worst part is—I’m not sure I want to stop it. Even knowing I might be just another in a long line of his obsessions, another woman he’ll use up and transform into something dark and beautiful, I can’t bring myself to run.

I slump against the bathroom door, my legs trembling. What am I doing here? Playing house with a murderer while he crafts his chocolates downstairs using human blood?

“Get it together,” I mutter, splashing cold water on my face. The woman in the mirror looks haunted, with dark circles under her eyes. My reflection tells the truth—I must get out of here.

My fingers brush over the bruises on my neck, evidence of last night’s... encounter. The marks tell a story of submission, of letting him take control. But they also remind me of what he’s capable of.

The suite door isn’t locked—Adrian’s confident I won’t leave. Why would he worry? He’s twice my size, all lean muscle beneath those perfectly tailored suits. One hand around my throat last night proved how easily he could overpower me, take the very life from me.

I test the door handle anyway, cracking it open an inch. Classical music drifts up from his workshop below, along with the rich scent of melting chocolate. He’s distracted, working on his next creation. This could be my chance.

But then what? My phone, purse, everything is gone. Even if I made it outside, where would I go? He knows where I live and where I work. The police? They’d never believe me—a respected chocolatier secretly killing people and using their blood in his recipes?

I close the door, pressing my forehead against the cool wood. The truth is heavy in my stomach: I can’t fight my way out of this. Adrian’s too strong, too careful, too obsessed. My only hope is to play along, to make him trust me enough to lower his guard.

The thought makes me sick. Or maybe that’s just the haunting flavor of his latest truffle, which he insisted I try this morning. I stumble to the bathroom again, dry heaving over the sink.

What terrifies me most isn’t Adrian’s strength or his careful planning. It’s how part of me doesn’t want to leave at all.

I jump at the sound of the door opening, spinning around to find Adrian filling the bathroom doorway. I hadn’t heard him coming. He studies me with those intense eyes, taking in my disheveled appearance.

“Everything alright in here?” His voice is silky smooth, laced with concern.

“Yeah,” I lie, turning back to the sink. “Just not feeling so great.”

Adrian steps closer, his presence filling the small space. His fingers softly stroke my hair away from my neck, exposing the marks he left. “Are you sure? You seem a bit...”

“Dizzy,” I finish for him, not meeting his eyes. I let my shoulders slump, pretending to be weaker than I am.

His arms wrap around me, pulling me close. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

I don’t resist as he leads me out of the bathroom, half-carrying me back to the plush bed. Everything in me screams to fight, to use this moment to gain the upper hand. But I force myself to relax, sinking into his embrace.

“Just rest,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my ear.

I draw in a shaky breath, my body responding to his touch despite my conflicting thoughts. As he eases me back onto the bed, I let my limbs go limp, pretending to be more affected by his sedative chocolates than I am.

His hands move over my body, stroking and caressing. I struggle to breathe as his touch ignites a fire in my core. I bite my lip, feigning submission, letting him believe I’ve accepted my captivity.

“That’s it,” he whispers, trailing kisses down my neck. “Let go, Maya.”

My fingers thread through his hair, encouraging him, even as my mind screams to stop. I’ve entered a dangerous dance with this man, and I’m unsure how to break free without getting burned.

I let my body melt against him, my hands roaming his chest. His heart pounds beneath my touch, a rhythmic reminder of the passion simmering beneath the surface. I move my hips, intentionally brushing against the growing bulge in his pants.

I watch Adrian step back, his fingers moving to his tie with practiced grace. The silk whispers as it slides free from his collar. Each precise movement speaks of control, even in this heated moment.

His jacket falls next, draped carefully over a nearby chair. The crisp white shirt follows, revealing the lean, inked muscles beneath. Scars mark his skin—telling stories I’m not sure I want to know.

My breath stutters when he removes his belt, the leather sliding through the loops with a soft hiss. The sound makes me shiver, bringing back memories of earlier encounters.

His shoes and socks join the neat pile of clothing. Even in this, Adrian maintains his meticulous nature. Nothing is rushed, nothing is messy.

I watch his hands move to his waist, undoing the button of his tailored pants. They fall away, leaving him in black boxer briefs that cling to his form.

“See something you like, little critic?” His voice carries that dangerous edge I’ve come to know too well.

I don’t answer, but my racing pulse betrays me. The last piece of clothing joins the others, and Adrian stands before me in all his glory. Scars and muscles tell a story of violence beneath his refined exterior.

He moves toward me with predatory grace, reaching down to gather me in his arms. His hands grip my waist, pulling me closer, his breath hot against my skin. “You know what I want, Maya.”

I tilt my head back, exposing my neck, a silent invitation. He growls low in his throat, claiming my mouth in a savage kiss. His lips are demanding, his tongue possessing, tasting of dark chocolate.

His hands slide down to grip my thighs, hoisting me up as if I weigh nothing. I wrap my legs around his waist, feeling his arousal press against me. He walks us over to the floor-to-ceiling window, giving us a panoramic view of the city below.

“Look at that view,” he whispers, his lips brushing my ear. “It’s all mine. Just like you.”

I shiver at his words, tightening my legs around him, urging him on.

His response is a harsh laugh. “Eager little thing, aren’t you?”

I nod, not trusting my voice. My breath comes in short gasps as he grinds against me, his hands squeezing my ass. “Please...” I finally manage to beg.

He pushes my back against the window and teases me, rubbing against my core but not giving me what I need. “Please, what, Maya?”

I bury my face in his neck, trying to hide my flushed cheeks. “You know what I want.”

His fingers dig into my skin. “That’s what I like to hear. A woman who knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to demand it.”

He pulls my nightgown up with a sharp tug, baring me to his hungry gaze. “Such a beautiful sight,” he murmurs. “But I want to see more.”

The thin fabric rips easily, leaving me exposed. I feel a thrill of shame mixed with arousal at the wanton way he takes in my naked body.

“That’s better.” His ice-blue eyes burn. “Now, where was I?”

He lowers me slowly so I can feel the hard length of him pressing against my entrance. With a groan, he thrusts inside, filling me completely.

I cry out, my fingers digging into his shoulders. He begins to move, his hips snapping as he takes me with rough strokes.

Adrian thrusts into me, his movements powerful and deliberate. My back presses against the cold window, his body covering mine.

His whispered words turn my insides to liquid fire. “That’s it, take it all. You like my cock filling your tight cunt, don’t you?”

I can only moan in response, my body responding with a desperation that scares me. I bite my lip to muffle the sounds escaping my throat.

He groans, his grip on my hips tightening. “Fuck, you feel so good, Maya. So wet and ready for me.”

I’m helpless against the pleasure building inside me. My hands wrap around the back of his neck, pulling him closer, urging him on. “Please, Adrian,” I beg, my voice the faintest whisper.

His pace quickens, the slapping of our skin filling the room. “That’s right, take it. You’re mine, only mine.”

His words fuel the storm inside me. Being claimed so possessively by this man, this dangerous, captivating man, pushes me to the edge.

“Come for me, little critic,” he demands, his thumb finding my sensitive bundle of nerves. “Let me hear you scream my name when I’m buried to the hilt inside your tight little pussy.”

The rough pad of his thumb sends me careening over the edge. My body convulses around him, my scream echoing off the walls.

Adrian’s thrusts become more urgent, his grip almost bruising as he pursues his own release. His teeth sink into my shoulder, marking me once more as he finds his climax.

We’re both breathing heavily, our bodies slick with sweat. He pulls out of me slowly, turning us so we sink onto the bed, tangled together.

“That was...” I struggle to find the words as my heart rate slowly returns to normal.

“Deliciously deviant,” he finishes for me, his voice rough. “You’re astonishing.”

I can feel his eyes on me, studying my reactions. I manage a nod, still struggling to form coherent sentences.

“But now,” he continues, a dangerous glint in his eye, “it’s time for you to really earn your keep.”

My body tenses at his choice of words. “Earn my—what do you mean?”

He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. There’s a shift in his demeanor, something hard and intense lurking beneath the surface.

I pull the sheet closer to my body, needing to cover myself to shield against whatever is coming.

Adrian’s gaze is hooded, intense. “You’ve given me your body. I’ve tasted every inch of you. But I want more.”

My breath catches in my throat. More? What more could he possibly want from me?

“I want your fears, your darkest desires.” He leans forward, his eyes capturing mine. “I want to explore everything with you, Maya.”

His fingers trace idle patterns on my skin. “Everything?” I echo, already knowing the answer.

His thumb brushes over a particularly sensitive spot on my inner thigh, making me squirm. “Everything.”

I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out. I’m afraid to ask, afraid to know.

Adrian’s smile is slow and sensual. “You know what I’m talking about, little critic.”

“I—I don’t know if I can,” I stammer. The truth hovers between us, unspoken but understood. I can feel my cheeks flushing and heat spreading through my body.

He tilts his head, his eyes searching mine. “You’ve never done it before, have you?”

My silence is my answer. He reaches out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.” His voice has taken on that velvety tone that makes my insides melt. “I promise to make it good for you.”

My pulse quickens, and I swallow hard, searching for my voice. “I don’t know if I’m ready for this.”

Adrian leans closer, his lips brushing my ear. “Let me be honest, Maya. I want your ass. Right here, right now.”

His blunt words hit me like a punch to the gut. He’s never been this forward, this brazen.

“I—I can’t just—” My voice trails off, my mind spinning.

“You can,” he interrupts, his hand stroking my thigh. “You will.”

“But it’s?—”

“It’s what?” He cuts me off, his fingers digging into my skin. “Tell me, Maya.”

“It’s... intimate,” I whisper, the word sticking in my throat.

“It is.” He nods, his eyes never leaving mine. “It’s the most intimate thing two people can do. Letting someone take you like that, possessing you completely.”

I shiver, the truth of his words sinking in. I’ve already given him so much, but this feels like crossing a forbidden line, stepping into an even darker place, trapping myself in his web even more.

“But you want it too, don’t you?” His thumb brushes my swollen lower lip. “Admit it.”

My eyes widen, my gaze dropping as I nod slightly. He’s right, as always. I do want it. I want him to take me there and push me beyond my boundaries again.

“Give voice to your hunger. Let me hear it.”

My lips part, the words feeling dirty and wrong even as I speak them. “I want—I want you to fuck me. In the ass.”

“There’s my honest girl.” His lips curl into a victorious smile. “You want my cock in your tight virgin ass.”

I swallow hard, nodding silently. My body is on fire, desire waging war with apprehension.

“But it’s your first time, so we’ll take it slow.” His eyes darken. “I want to feel every inch of you surrender to me.”

How did I get here? Bent over the bed, my cheeks exposed to the cool air, while Adrian teases my asshole.

I bite my lip, tasting blood as his finger circles my entrance, the one I’ve kept guarded for so long. I always imagined this moment to be tender and romantic. Never in a million years did I think it would be like this, with a man I barely know, a man who kills people and kidnapped me.

And part of me wonders… how much time will I have left after he takes every part of me, using me for his own pleasure?