Chapter 16 Lila
Hours had passed since I last saw Niko and some twisted part of me had wanted to beg him to stay.
But I couldn’t bring myself to say the words.
To simply say, ‘Please stay.’ I’d never been good at admitting when I had messed up, but I knew I had when I kicked him out.
Every fucked-up part of me felt the sting of him leaving, but I wasn’t sure I even cared anymore.
The room was eerily silent without him here, a stillness that made my skin itch. I replayed the last few days over in my head, trying to piece together when exactly I’d resigned myself to feeling this way.
He was dangerous.
A ticking time bomb.
A murderer.
But even as I sat here thinking about that, thinking about the way he’d come into my room slick with blood, Daniel’s blood, my heart started to race.
Not with fear, or panic, but with something much darker.
Desire.
Lust.
Arousal.
I shook my head, banishing the unwanted thoughts, and sat on the bed. I lay back, pulling the blanket over my head, and groaned into the darkness. Waiting for time to pass down here was miserable. If it weren’t for the clock hanging over the dresser, I wouldn’t even know what time it was.
The hair on the back of my neck stood at attention, the feel of someone’s gaze on my back.
Slowly, I pulled the blanket back, seeing Niko standing in front of me.
His body was drenched, water seeping its way into the rug on the floor.
A shiver crept down my spine as warmth pooled in my stomach.
The sight of him made my clit throb with need, his eyes gazing down at me with hunger.
“You shared your feelings with me,” he blurted out, his chest heaving with each breath. “You opened up to me and let me in.”
I sat up and watched him pace the room. He stopped, sliding his hand over his face, and turned to me.
“Yeah, I did.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know,” I said, shaking my head. “I’ve never told anyone about that stuff. Not even Casey.”
“Do you trust me?”
I shrugged and sat back in the bed, leaning against the headboard.
“I don’t know, Niko.”
He let out a heavy sigh as he pressed his back against the wall and slid to the floor.
“I was raised by my father,” he said, his eyes darting between me and the wall. “But he wasn’t the loving, doting father that he pretended to be in front of everyone.”
Silence filled the room as he tried to gather himself. His breathing steadied, but the darkness in his eyes grew.
“He was vicious. I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t abused.
You remember things from when you were young, but I blocked most of it out years ago.
Every once in a while, things will come back to me, things I wish wouldn’t.
My father was the kind of man who got off on other people’s pain, especially mine. ”
He laughed darkly, the pain in his eyes giving way to anger. His hands turned into fists, and I saw cuts and bruises lining his knuckles. I wanted to reach and stroke them, to give him some sense of comfort.
“He wasn’t a man at all, but a fucking coward.”
I stood from the bed and walked toward him, his face softening as I knelt in front of him.
“I wanted nothing more than to be loved by him, but the older I got, the more I realized he wasn’t capable of love. He always told me how big a disappointment I was to him. Not because of bad grades, or lack of trying, but because I was just… me.”
His words settled in the air around us as an ache slithered deep into my bones. I reached up and held his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“I killed him,” he whispered.
His eyes locked onto mine, and even as he said those words, I didn’t feel fear or panic. I felt… envious.
“And I don’t regret it. Not once in the last six years have I felt bad about what I did. What does that say about me?”
I chewed on my bottom lip, trying to find the right thing to say.
“I don’t know what it says about you, Niko. But I know from experience that parents are supposed to love and take care of you. When they’re the cause of all our pain it… breaks us.”
“I hadn’t spoken to him in two years. A week after I turned eighteen, he kicked me out. Then, out of the blue, he called me and asked me to come see him. When I got here, you know what it was that he wanted?”
“What?”
“He wanted my forgiveness. Said he’d turned over a new leaf and wanted to make things right.”
Tears fell down his cheeks, and for the first time since he’d taken me, I got a glimpse at the real Niko. The scared, angry little boy that held so much pain was seeping through.
“When I told him that it would never be possible, he got angry. Started throwing things, yelling at me, got in my face. When I was younger, I would have flinched, wouldn’t have dared to fight back.
But I was grown, ya know? Things were different.
I wasn’t the same pathetic little boy I was back then.
So when he raised his fist, I didn’t give him the chance to hit me. I hit him first.”
He glanced up at me, his eyes scouring every inch of my face for some kind of reaction, but there was nothing to see. Only his pain mirrored in my eyes.
“He was still alive when I buried him. I remember feeling so relieved when I was finished. Like all those years he’d hurt me were finally buried with him.”
I reached up, moving the hair from in front of his eyes, and slipped it behind his ear. He shivered as I stroked his cheek with my thumb, wiping away some of his tears.
“The day my dad shut the door in my face, I… dreamt of killing him. I wanted to see him suffer like he’d made me suffer all those years.”
The words slipped from my lips, and I felt the pain in my chest ease just a little.
“For weeks, I’d go by his house and just stand on his front lawn, waiting for him to come out and face me. Then one day he called the cops, and I was told if I set foot there again, I’d be arrested.”
He reached up and gripped my hand, his cold skin making me shudder.
“I’ve never told anyone that,” I laughed.
“Why are you telling me?”
My brows furrowed as I thought about it.
“I don’t know. I guess because you understand what it’s like. No one else I’ve met does.”
“I can make it happen,” he whispered.
“What?”
“Killing your dad. I can make it happen.”
I shook my head and laughed despite the thrill that ignited in my chest.
“As nice as it sounds, I don’t think I have it in me. I can’t picture myself actually killing him.”
“What about your mom?”
My chest began to ache as I thought about my mom, and I sighed.
“She’s dead. I didn’t find out until a month after she died. One of her friends told me. The night I left, I guess she abandoned the house, went on a bender, and was homeless. They found her in some alley where she OD’d. Guess fate had better plans.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he reached up to stroke my cheek.
I moved forward and positioned myself between his legs.
His jaw ticked as I placed my legs on either side of him, the bulge of his cock pressing against my inner thigh.
I pushed every thought out of my mind—the fear, the doubt—all distant memories as I started to grind against him.
His muscles tensed, and a deep growl rumbled from his chest.
“You kept asking me what I wanted,” I whispered, my breathing turning heavy. “Now, it’s my turn to ask you what you want.”
His hand slipped from my cheek to my neck, loosely wrapping around my throat. I shuddered at the feeling, remembering how it felt to have his hand wrapped around my throat, squeezing until I couldn't breathe.
“So, Niko, what is it you want?” I asked, pressing my lips against his ear.
The pressure around my neck grew tighter, a soft moan erupting from my lips.
His other hand slipped into my sweatpants, trailing slowly down to my entrance.
I gasped as he teased me with his fingers, letting the palm of his hand graze against my clit.
He slid two fingers inside me and tightened his grip around my throat.
My head fell back as he pumped into me, carrying me to the edge of pure bliss.
“Oh, god,” I moaned.
“Look at me,” he demanded.
I tilted my head forward, meeting his eyes, and the way he looked at me made me want to unravel. He slowed his movements, letting me ride his fingers, the feel of my release creeping up slowly.
“Ride my fingers like the good girl you are,” he said with a smirk.
I quickened my pace, letting his words carry me toward the edge, when suddenly, he pulled his fingers free. I whimpered at the emptiness, the loss of his fingers feeling like a form of punishment.
He reached behind him, pulling something from the back of his pants, and my eyes widened at the sight of it.
It was a knife—one like you saw in all the horror movies—the hilt of it decorated in black and red marble.
The tip of it was slightly curved with dried blood crusted along the edges.
He brought it up to my face, the blade glinting in the dim light of the room, and something dark swirled in his eyes.
“This is the knife I slit Daniel’s throat with,” he said, the darkness in his eyes seeming to grow.
He lowered it to my pants, slicing them to create an opening.
A chill ran down my spine as he pressed the hilt against my entrance, the cold steel sending goosebumps along my skin.
Gently, he slid it inside me, and my body shivered at the foreign sensation.
Our eyes were locked as I began to ride the knife, my fingernails digging into his chest.
My breathing became erratic as I quickened my pace, nothing but the sound of my moans filling the small room.
His grip on my throat tightened even more, the air in my lungs fighting to get free.
Darkness filled the edges of my vision, and everything in me wanted to fight to get away.
When I was about to pass out, he loosened his grip, and air slowly made its way back into my lungs.
Without warning, my walls clenched around the knife, and I let out a shrill cry as I came. My body shuddered, heat filling every part of me as my climax came crashing down. Tears slid down my cheeks as I gave in to the sensation, continuing to ride the knife as I waited for the high to end.
When I was spent, my body jerking with aftershocks, Niko pulled the knife from inside me, licking away my arousal.
His hand was covered in blood, not an inch of it clean, with a large gash across his palm.
Before I could react, he slid three fingers inside me, pumping into me so fast, my head started to spin.
I met each thrust with a roll of my hips, feeling the warmth of his blood sliding down my inner thighs, some dark thrill pulsing through me.
Just when I was about to come again, he pulled his fingers free and pushed me to the floor. He reached down and pulled his cock free, stroking it with his bloody hand. A smirk slipped across his lips, and he pressed into me slowly, inch by fucking inch.
“Oh, fuck,” I moaned.
Niko chuckled, removing his hand from around my throat and to grip my hip instead.
He rested his arm next to my head, leaning down to meet my mouth in a fiery kiss.
His tongue slid between my lips, and I moaned into him.
He pulled away, looking into my eyes with such heat that I felt like I might turn to ash under his gaze.
“You asked me what I want,” he panted, “but I’ve already told you.”
My brows furrowed in confusion as he pulled himself free.
“You,” he whispered before slamming back into me.
My back arched as he fucked into me with unforgiving thrusts. I wrapped my arms around his neck, trying to pull him in closer, needing to feel his body against mine. He quickened his pace, his thrusts becoming harder, and my walls began to clench and spasm around his cock.
“Oh, god, Niko,” I breathed as I came.
I met each of his thrusts with my hips, searching, begging, pleading.
“You take my cock like such a good girl,” he purred against my cheek.
The earthy scent of him filled my nose, and I dug my nails deep into his skin.
“Fuck,” he panted.
He leaned down and took my nipple into his mouth. I writhed against him, a small whimper slipping from my lips, as he flicked it with his tongue. A tingling sensation rolled through me as I started to come.
“Don’t stop,” I begged. “Fuck, please don’t stop.”
His thrusts grew more violent and needy, and a deep grumble vibrated through his chest. His body trembled as he came inside me, and the warmth of him filling me sent a new wave of arousal straight to my core.
Minutes passed before he slipped his cock free, the floor beneath us soaked in blood and cum. I reached up and slipped his hair behind his ear, feeling a knot form in my chest.
My entire adult life, I’d searched for someone who could love me, despite the many flaws I had. Someone who could understand the damage I had, who could love me through it.
No.
I wanted someone who could love me despite the damage I had.
Who knew I’d end up falling for the man who was holding me captive?