10
Amara
A few mornings later, I scoured everywhere online until I found a small two-bedroom house for rent. I sent the owner my information, and they ran a credit and background check on me before allowing me to visit. It was fully furnished, and I signed the lease that day.
The hotel was just a twenty-minute walk away, so I went back there, checked out, and slung my bag over my shoulder as I walked back to my new place. Still reeling from when my ex sent a brick through the shelter’s window, I peered over my shoulder once in a while to make sure he wasn’t following me.
Maybe it was my imagination, but I saw the same man behind me more than once.
He was tall, clearly over six feet, and wore black jeans and a black hoodie. His face was obscured in the shadows, so I couldn’t tell who he was. I picked up the pace, trying to get as far away from him as possible.
I deliberately walked in the wrong direction until I lost him, and only then did I get back on the path to my new home. I quickly entered and shut the door behind me.
I went upstairs, placed my clothes in the closet, put toiletries in the bathroom, and tried to make myself home.
My phone rang, and I sighed as I picked it up. “Yes?”
“Hey, Amara, can you come in today?” Marta asked. “There’s an issue with your client.”
“Yeah, I know, he broke out,” I sighed. “I saw it in the news.”
“There’s something else. You really should come in and see this,” she insisted.
I frowned but knew I had to keep this job to keep my new place. So I agreed, hung up the phone, and dressed in something more work-appropriate.
I left out the back door in case whoever followed me was still around. I prayed it wasn’t my soon-to-be ex-husband and began the short walk to my workplace.
I walked in without a word, going straight to my desk. A pile of paperwork awaited me, but letters were also on the stack. I sifted through the junk mail, but one envelope caught my attention with the return address.
Ashwood Prison.
I froze. The letter was stamped the same day that I met Enzo. Had he written me, and I only saw the letter now?
Impatient, I tore it open, my eyes falling on the elegant scrawl on white lined paper.
Amara,
Hello again. I wonder what my name will sound like when you call it as you come for me.
-Enzo
I dropped the letter, a bolt of pure need and longing spearing me. No one had ever talked to me like that before, especially not a client. I was flustered and didn’t know what to do with myself as I put the letter in a drawer and slammed it shut.
I looked at the letters again, and I gasped when I saw another one and another. It looked like he had written to me each day since I saw him, only stopping on the day he broke out.
I ripped the second envelope open, glancing up to ensure the door to my office was closed before I looked at the letter.
Amara,
No answer? That’s alright. I’ve got all the time in the world to spend writing to you, baby. How about a poem?
Roses are red Violets are blue No matter where you go I’ll be watching you.
-Enzo
I shook my head at his words, trying to clear my head of filthy thoughts. The first letter was hot, but this one was scary. I threw it in a random drawer before I opened the last one, holding my breath as I read the words.
Amara,
I bet those lips would look beautiful wrapped around my cock. I’m thinking you’re wondering what it looks like, just like I’m wondering what your pussy looks like. Is it wet for me already, baby? Are you touching yourself now thinking of me? You might not know it yet, but you’re mine, Amara, and I don’t share.
Get that divorce finalized, or I’ll have to help it along.
-Enzo
I had to remind myself to breathe. Enzo was threatening my husband. Why did I find that thrilling? I shoved the letter into a drawer, slamming it shut as my heart pounded.
My panties were soaked and uncomfortable, but I had to work. I tried my best to forget about those letters as I read through the files on my desk.
Enzo was facing new charges for his escape, and he hadn’t escaped alone. I shuddered at the thought. Were the others dangerous like him, and were they terrorizing the law-abiding citizens?
I tried my best to focus as I scrambled for a defense. Apparently, his sister had been kidnapped, and he broke out the same day. I was unsure whether she had recovered, so I began digging into this mysterious inmate.
I went to the beginning, searching every record of him and that gym teacher he killed.
When I found statements made by his sister, my heart sank.
In her initial statement, she stated that she was sexually assaulted by the gym teacher, who was her coach at the time. She said that Enzo had walked in on him raping her, and that’s when he snapped. But the police had asked her why she didn’t report the previous assaults and decided that she would say anything to get her brother out of jail.
But then I kept looking. During his first years in adult prisons, he only targeted child molesters and rapists. It fit his profile and explained his rage, and it only worsened. When all the sex offenders were gone, he went for other violent criminals until killing and fighting was all he knew.
The system had failed him, and he was a product of their failures.
I went further back. Enzo went from foster home to foster home, running away from them if he wasn’t placed with his sister. She was the only family he had since none of their blood family could care for them.
I printed everything I found, adding it to the massive folder of evidence the state had against him, but they didn’t know the whole story. They didn’t know that he was a product of neglect and abuse, nor that his first murder was in defense of his only family.
I looked up only when my boss knocked at my door and realized it was dark out.
“You should’ve left hours ago,” she gasped. “I was just locking up. Go home, Amara. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Right,” I muttered, straightening my desk before I headed out. “See you in the morning.”
The walk home was quick, but I still sensed that I was being watched. I looked over my shoulder, swearing, and saw a shadowy figure following me.
I hurried home, locking the door behind me. Heading to the kitchen, I fixed myself a sandwich with some of the food I had left over from the food bank since I had worked right through lunch. The growling in my stomach finally stopped, and I ate every bite. I jogged upstairs, ready to go to bed for the night.
A streetlight flickered, and I looked outside.
There was a man out there, standing below the streetlight, looking up at me. He didn’t wave, didn’t move, just stared.
My heart sank. Was it Mark? Was he here to hurt me again? I ducked, crawling across the floor as I swore, realizing I had left my phone in the kitchen. I heard it ring and was too far away to grab it now. If I went down there, Mark would probably throw another brick in the house and climb in, and this time, he would kill me.
I slowly stand, peeking outside, relieved to see that the man was gone.
But then my blood went cold. If I couldn’t see him, then where was he? It wasn’t like Mark to just walk away once he knew where I was.
“My Amara,” a voice whispered, too close for comfort.
I opened my mouth to scream, but a hand clamped over it and muffled the sound. I was pinned against a warm, hard body, breathing heavily through my nose as I looked around, trying to find anything I could use as a weapon. I bit down on the hand hard, and the person behind me only chuckled as he leaned in, sniffing my hair.
“You’re a little spitfire, baby,” a familiar voice husked, and my teeth unlatched from his hand.
It was Enzo.
“Are you going to scream if I remove my hand now?” he questioned.
I shook my head and felt his lips curl into a smirk against my ear. “That’s a good girl.”
My knees went weak as his tattooed hand fell from my mouth but wrapped around my throat instead. He spun me around to face him, the shadows obscuring his face from me as I took him in.
He was tall and dressed in all black. He pushed his hood away from his face, and I recognized him. His spectacles glinted in the glow of my nightstand’s light, his blond curls falling over his face, and those full, kissable lips curled into a sinister smile.
I was caught in a predator’s trap and could do nothing to escape.
“You went to work today,” he grinned. “Did you get my letters, baby?”
I nodded. “All of them,” I breathed. “Mark kept your letters from me. I didn’t know you had written back and thought you had stopped. I’m sorry.”
His eyes darkened, glinting with danger. I swallowed, wondering if he even believed me.
I didn’t trust my words as both terror and lust swirled in my mind, my heart, my pussy. How could I be so turned on right now as an escaped killer held me by the throat?
“Are you going to write me back this time?” he murmured, his gaze raking over my body.
“I did,” I admitted. I did right after I found out about what happened to his sister. I knew he’d end up in that prison, so I mailed it there, dropping it at a mailbox on the walk back from work.
“I can’t wait to read it,” he husked. “Got myself my little pen pal back. I wonder how she tastes.”
I whimpered, my knees going weak as he turned, pinning me against the wall. His knee pressed against my pussy, forcing my legs apart as he lowered his face to mine, and I could taste his breath.
His mustache tickled my upper lip as he traced it with his tongue, flicking it between my lips, a silent order to open my mouth for him. I did, and he spat in my mouth, and the only thing that held me up was his knee as mine buckled.
“Swallow,” he whispered, gripping my lower lip with his teeth, tugging it playfully. “Be a good girl and swallow; I’ll reward you.”
I closed my mouth and swallowed, the act filthy and titillating all at once.
His grin was feral and unhinged, and he crashed his mouth against mine, pushing his tongue into my mouth. He coaxed my tongue into his, where he bit it and swirled his tongue around the tip. I moaned in his mouth, unable to help myself. My head spun. No one had ever kissed me like this, not even close.
Enzo picked me up in his arms, tossed me to my bed, and placed me by the headboard as he tugged on something. I felt him wrap something— ropes?—around my wrists, securing me tightly to my headboard.
I could barely process this as he tugged my dress pants and panties down, exposing my drenched pussy. I whimpered, tugging on the ropes as he unbuttoned my suit jacket and dress shirt, exposing my breasts to him. I didn’t bother wearing a bra since my breasts were small enough to get away with it.
“Look at my little lawyer, all bare just for me,” he murmured, brandishing a knife.
“Don’t!” I gasped, flinching as he raised it to my throat.
“Don’t what, baby?” he rasped, dragging the blade across my collarbone. “I said I’d reward you, and I meant it.”
“Are you going to hurt me, Enzo?” I whined.
He smirked. “I am, baby, but you’ll learn to love it, even beg for it.”
Before I could protest, his knife slid down my chest to my breasts, circling my hardening nipples. My breath caught in my throat as he nicked them, dragging them into his mouth as he took long, deep pulls. I moaned, arching my back to give him better access as he tongued the sensitive nubs, my pussy clenching for more.
The knife pressed against my belly as he loomed over me, his other hand gripping my jaw, forcing my eyes on his. "Should I slice you open, baby?" he taunted, his thumb smearing blood across my lips. "Or should I fuck you first?"
Coldness seized in my chest, but fear wasn't what made my thighs clench.
He tilted his head to the side, studying me, reading every reaction like I was a puzzle he pieced together. "You like this, don't you?" The blade trailed up, pressing between my breasts over the rapid beat of my heart. "You like knowing I could end you right here."
My breath came in shallow, harsh pants. "I hate you."
He grinned. "Hate me harder, baby." The knife slid lower, down my legs, up my inner thighs, and between my legs as I gasped. "That's it," he whispered, licking the blood from my throat before biting down. I stiffened, whimpering as he flipped it, pressing the handle against my entrance. "Now scream for me."
Then he plunged it inside me, and my eyes crossed.
“Fuck,” he groaned, lifting my hips so he could see his knife disappear inside me. He locked eyes with me as he lowered himself down my body, his lips found my clit, and he sucked it into his mouth.
“Enzo!” I shouted, my hips bucking as he grinned, nipping at my clit as he thrust the knife handle deeper inside me, positioning it until the thrusts had my knees wobbling and my breath gasping.
“That’s right, baby, say my name,” he murmured between licks. “Say my name as you come all over this knife like a good girl.”
He thrust the knife faster, and he sucked my clit deeper in his mouth, his tongue rubbing mind-numbing circles around the tip. I felt like he was pulling my soul from me through my clit, and it felt amazing.
I screamed as white-hot pleasure surged through me, my pussy clenching, clit throbbing in his mouth as I shuddered, washed up by the most blinding, powerful orgasm I ever had. “Enzo, Enzo, Enzo,” I moaned, unable to stop.
“Mmm, you’re delicious, baby,” he groaned, waiting until I went still before he dragged his knife from my cunt. “You made a mess, my little lawyer. You need to clean it up.”
He shoved the handle in my mouth, and I wrapped my tongue around it, sucking my juices dry from the handle as I held eye contact with him, my clit pulsing for more.
He chuckled, pulling the knife from my mouth as he shoved his fingers inside me, making me squeal from the intrusion.
“Now come all over my fingers,” he demanded, pressing the blade of the knife against my clit. The shock of the cold steel pressing against my over-sensitive bud made me scream, and he curled his fingers just right, raking against my G-spot.
I rocked my hips against his rhythm, exploding all over him, my wetness seeping down his hand as I shrieked, writhing and trembling as he wrung every jolt of pleasure out of me. He drew out my orgasm, not slowing or stopping until I went slack.
I could feel tears running down my face, and I could only imagine how I looked with my makeup smeared.
“You’re a mess, darling,” he murmured. “A beautiful mess, just for me.”
I hummed, unable to form coherent words as he loosened the ropes around my wrists. I collapsed on my bed, breathing hard as he loomed over me, pressing his hips against me so I could feel how affected he was by what he’d just done to me.
“I have to get back and read your letter now,” he husked, leaning down to kiss my swollen lips. “But I’ll be back before you know it.”
Then he backed away, fading into the shadows until he was gone.