Chapter 11 – Sara
Rom coms were cute and adorable. That was part of the reason I didn’t swear often.
I’d always kept my dialogue trained to write that way, but it was changing as I ventured into my dark romantasy era.
Another thing that changed was that rom coms required very little scene research.
Maybe a new dish at a restaurant that could be turned into a comical disaster.
Or walking in a park to imagine the main characters bumbling about on an awkward first date.
Those stories certainly didn’t encourage the author to tie herself from a hook in the ceiling as her tiptoes balanced on a rotund white pumpkin that her mother insisted accompany her to the lake house for seasonal décor.
But here I was, dangling in the brisk autumn air. Devoted to my craft. Ready to make this scene feel as real as possible when I rewrote it tomorrow. Writer’s block was a bitch. The scene sounded hollow. I needed vivid details to capture the moment.
Losing feeling in my fingertips was pretty damn vivid.
The cool air cut through my flannel shirt.
My nipples were frozen tips on my chest. The flannel pajama set might have long sleeves and pants, but the fabric was painfully thin.
The wind cut straight through it. I wobbled about, wondering for the thousandth time if this would end the way I hoped.
The eight-foot length of rope was tied around each wrist, and it had taken more than one try to toss it over the hook up in the rafters.
I nudged my glasses up my nose with my bicep yet again, thinking that contacts might have been a better choice for tonight’s research.
“Quit whining! You left the heroine in the same position for hours,” I reminded myself.
The poor thing. At least she was in the bowels of the arena, imprisoned in a dungeon. The north wind wasn’t licking her face every few seconds. And her feet had boots, although they couldn’t touch the floor. My bare piggies, with nails painted a shiny onyx, were freezing!
But you smell better.
“Yes, squirrel, I have the luxury of cosmetics,” I laughed to myself, inhaling the scent of my midnight rose body lotion and matching shower gel.
The crunch of leaves had my head snapping across the front lawn. The candles I’d lit in preparation danced in greeting. A few had been extinguished, but the remaining orbs of light glowed in greeting.
The shadowy specter unfolded from the trees, stopping to scan the scene. That stupid Yankee’s cap was pulled low, and I couldn’t see his face.
“Boy, I’m so glad you showed. This was getting exhausting!” I called out. Thankfully, my teeth didn’t chatter.
The devil moved quickly across the lawn. He kicked each candle over, plunging the space into darkness with every step.
“What were you thinking?” he barked. The strangled quality of his voice didn’t have to be forced. If I didn’t already know who he was, it would be hard to guess based on that gruff pitch.
“I was thinking that several details in my manuscript were wrong,” I said with a shrug. “And I was right. Help me do a bit of…uh…research?”
I shifted my body.
It wasn’t as seductive as I thought. I could write it that way, though. My readers would see it as sensual in their heads, when it was the furthest thing from reality.
I just hoped he took the hint.
“Angel,” he rasped and ascended the step. “How long have you been waiting?”
“Long enough to make my scene accurate.”
He viciously kicked over the last candle and wrapped his hands around my hips. I peered down at him with a smile. I couldn’t see his face in the dark, but my mind drew his features from memory.
“You came,” I breathed, reciting the dialogue from tonight’s last chapter.
“You reckless, beautiful creature.” He wrapped my legs around his waist before reaching for the rope.
This wasn’t how the dialogue between my characters was supposed to unfold. But it was a damn good line!
“Oh, no! Don’t take me down!” I squeaked.
He paused.
“I have to…uh…hang,” I explained. “And you—”
I blushed. Hard. The words wouldn’t come out. I couldn’t say ‘fuck me’ and make it sound good.
Those strong hands slid up and down my sides. “Are you open to changing the scene?”
“Um….”
“Or….” His voice dropped to a seductive rasp. “What if we make our own scene?”
Our scene.
Now that was a good idea.
My voice turned breathless. “We could do that.”
I smiled, a little shyly. This was better!
The monster unhooked the rope from the rafter of the porch and draped my shivering arms against his chest. Those hard hands were gentle as they rubbed feeling back into my wrists. My arms tingled with pins and needles. But the warmth of his body went a long way to bringing them back to life.
He looped my arms around his neck. “Fuck, angel, you make me want to punish you for being so careless.”
A shiver raced through me, and my core clenched tight. “Really?”
He stilled.
“You really want to punish me?” I breathed. “How?”
“Cazzo.” The word dragged slowly from his lips.
Heat spread between my legs. I was eager for whatever he had in mind. I pictured myself as an offering, completely at the monster’s mercy. It wasn’t far from the truth.
His warm body flexed against mine. “Can you stand?”
I nodded. “Of course!”
Gently, he set me on the ground and pushed me against the porch railing. The wood bit into my stomach. The devil took the length of rope as pressed himself against my ass, grinding against me. The middle of the rope dragged down my spine.
“You know I’ll never hurt you, Sara.”
It wasn’t a question, but I answered anyway. “I know.”
“Your safe word is ‘ghost’. Say it, so I know you understand.”
I gulped. A safe word! This night just kept getting better and better. “Ghost.”
“Good girl.”
The smile was quickly wiped off my face when the long length of the rope cracked across my ass. I stiffened as a cry cut from my lips.
“Hold the railing, angel.”
My fingers, still numb from too long hanging, fumbled against the chilled wood.
There wasn’t time to brace myself before the rope smacked my flesh. His palm was there a moment later, massaging the area.
“Are you alright?”
I loved that he was checking in with me, testing my comfort level. But it—it wasn’t that bad.
“I’m great,” I breathed.
The rope rained down on my right side. Left. Right again. Until my ass smarted with the sting. I leaned forward, an arch forming in my spine as pleasure shot through me. The muscle in my core clenched tightly.
“I don’t want you doing something so stupid again,” he growled. “What if I wasn’t coming?”
“I would have gotten down,” I explained, voice breathless. That was a better answer than telling him I would have waited all night for the monster in the dark.
The devil yanked my flannel pajama pants down my legs, and without warning, plunged two fingers into my core. The invasion made me gasp as pleasure shot through my veins. Behind me, the devil groaned. The sound was almost pained.
“You’re fucking drenched, angel.”
“Because I knew you were coming,” I gasped and clenched my muscles around his cold digits.
He began to fuck me with his fingers as the rope slid across the bare skin of my ass. First up the one slope, across the top, then down the other.
His hot breath fanned against my throat. “I think a bad girl like you needs to be fucked hard.”
A needy little whimper escaped me.
“I think you need to be taken.” He slammed his fingers deep, curling them in the most delicious torment. “Taken hard. Right here.”
I was conflicted. My heroine had protested, and I’d written my first dubious consent scene. I, on the other hand, would sign any document that gave this man permission to do whatever he wanted to me.
Before I could decide when this stopped being research and started being my own story, the decision was made for me. The devil looped the center of the rope over my head, placing the fraying strands against my mouth.
“Open.”
I obeyed.
“Bite down,” he growled.
It tasted like crap. Fibers shed on my tongue. I gagged, but he pulled the ends in his hand behind me. His fingers ripped from my pussy, distracting me at their loss. But my muffled protest was quickly cut off by the sound of his zipper.
“This wasn’t how I imagined tonight,” he confessed, spreading my ass and pushing me down, over the railing. “But it’s how we’re going to write it, isn’t it, angel?”
I nodded, saliva pooling against the rope.
I swallowed thickly.
With a sharp snap of his hips, the monster drove into me. The momentum made me rock forward. The railing scraped against my belly, catching the rolls of tummy.
But the feel of him inside me was so damn good!
He thrust with short, shallow movements. His grip on the rope kept my head pulled back, but just slightly.
“Take it.” His breaths were ragged behind me. “Fucking take it.”
My nails dug into the railing. I rose to the tips of my toes, tipping my pelvis to give him everything.
The subtle shift made the monster growl. His palm slid over my ass. Then it disappeared for a split second before it collided with a crack.
Sweet, delirious pain slithered through me.
The devil spanked me once more before his arm snaked around and his fingers brushed against my clit.
The contact was electric. I cried out, gasping and choking on the gag that he kept cinched around my head.
He showed no mercy. He pinched and tugged my clit, then made slow, precise circles with the tip of his finger, before a second slid back and forth.
All the while, he continued to take me in relentless strokes.
The orgasm built from the inside. The pleasure coiled until it snapped.
I convulsed. My body shuddered as waves tore through my muscles.
Behind me, the monster took me harder. He dropped his hold on the rope, and both his hands found my hips. He lifted my lower half, my feet no longer on the ground, and pushed deeper yet.
He fucked me hard with brutal strokes.
I clenched around him in the aftershocks of release. A mixture of whimpers and mewls broke through the night. My body was weightless. Stars danced across the night.
He thrust once—twice! And then he sank fully inside and stilled with a muted roar. Dropping his forehead against my spine, he gasped for air.
“Are you okay?” I murmured.
He choked on a laugh. “I should be asking you that, angel.”
“I’m wonderful,” I breathed. “That was perfect.”
New ideas sparked in my mind. More scenes and ideas for future moments in my story spun through my mind. But I wasn’t in a hurry to record them in words. Right now, I was content to let this connection remain a feeling. Because I was connected to this monster.
“Can I get you a beer? Or a soda?” I offered, twisting to look behind me.
I wanted more.
But the devil dipped his head, keeping his face in the shadow of that damn Yankee cap. “It’s time for you to go inside, angel. Lock the door. Go to bed.”
A protest squeaked from my throat as he slid out of me.
“Sara,” he warned. “I need you to sleep, my sweet girl.” Carefully, he lowered me to the ground. His hands slid up my spine. “You need to be well-rested so you have a productive day tomorrow.”
What the heck? Was he being serious right now?
He must have sensed my arguments, because he growled in warning. “I’ll only keep coming to visit if you keep a healthy routine. I won’t be the reason you’re distracted from your writing or too tired to work.”
“Fine,” I said tightly.
I felt more than saw his smirk of victory. The menace. Negotiating with me. But that was what happened by not reading the fine print. This deal was sealed, and now there was no choice but to play his game.
Pulling away, he crouched to drag my pajama pants back up my thighs. The material turned damp between my legs, and I realized once again that we’d had unprotected sex. Cavolo. I was really going to have to do something about that. But not right now.
I spun around, thinking of the perfect words to leave the night on. They died on my lips as his hands cupped my face. He bent forward and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. His touch burned. I wanted it to brand me forever.
He whispered softly, “You’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever met, Sara.”
That was it.
Words taken straight out of thin air, they swirled through my chest, leaving a delicious warmth. This time, the heat wasn’t sexual. It was something more.
I cleared my throat and delivered a winning comeback. “You’re not so bad yourself—whoever you are.”
Yep. Not my finest bit of dialogue.
But the monster chuckled. “Goodnight, little wordsmith. Happy writing.”
Every instinct screamed to drag him with me, to find the bed, to go again and again as he tugged my wrist and gently pushed me through the front door.
The warmth of the house enveloped me in a welcome embrace.
But I would rather take the chill of the autumn wind if it meant staying in the dark with the monster.