Chapter 14 Lila
Lila
I’m not sure how long I’ve been asleep, but when I wake up, it’s still dark. Thirsty, I notice my water bottle is empty. I decide to head to the kitchen and fill it with filtered water from the refrigerator before going back to sleep.
Since I threatened him with the knife, I'd only seen him sporadically, when before I'd seen him nearly every night.
I've lost track of how long it's been since I saw him. Which is good. Maybe he's forgotten about me. And after that day Eli chased me in my library, he’s only been staying home for a night or two at a time before leaving again. I wish I knew exactly what he was doing, but I can’t go into his office to investigate. He watches me from wherever he is. I also wouldn’t be surprised if there was an alarm on that door.
As I turn away, I lean against the sink, taking a drink from my newly filled water bottle.
That’s when I see movement by the sliding door.
My stalker stands there holding the handle, looking inside, staring right at me.
The sight of him makes my heart pound. Swallowing the water in my mouth, it immediately goes dry, and pressure builds in my head.
I just stand here and stare at him, frozen in place.
Then, the door slowly clicks shut and latches.
That sound hits me hard, I realize he was just inside while I slept, and I forgot to check the cameras before leaving my library.
I know better than to check the cameras now; there won’t be anything to see.
They will be cycling and there would be no evidence.
They’ve both been gone so long that I keep forgetting to check and Eli must be gone if he’s this close.
He backs carefully away from the door toward the steps, and that’s when my body kicks back into gear.
Grabbing a knife from the butcher’s block, I stomp toward the door as he steps down onto the patio below.
Throwing it open so hard that it slams against the frame as I rush through it and toward the same steps.
My foot lands on the first tread when I remember it rained earlier, and I’m barefoot.
I slip, and thankfully, the knife clatters on the deck behind me instead of under me as I slide down a few treads.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
It takes me a moment to register that he stands in front of me, his mask still on.
He must have turned back when I fell. I can’t see his face, only his mouth, where a small dimple rests in his chin.
His head tilts down at my sheer white tank and thin black night shorts.
Suddenly, he rushes me, pinning my wrists above my head.
The weight of him presses down on me as he slides a knee up between my legs and spreads them apart.
A gasp escapes my lips. Heat radiates from my wrists down between my legs, and my face burns.
“I won’t hurt you,” he whispers in my ear, his hot breath caressing my neck, sending a warm thrill coursing through my body, straight to my core.
He moves one hand from my wrists to caress the side of my face, then slowly trails it down over my breast and hard nipple; I shudder at the contact as he continues down to my waist. I can feel his hard length straining against his pants as he starts to grind over my now throbbing clit.
My body ignites with desire; a soft moan slips from me, and I hear him groan in response.
“I’ve missed you,” he says.
I am ruined, absolutely ruined. My stalker grinds into me, and I let him do it.
I must be sick in the head, but god, I love it.
If this is what depravity feels like, then I embrace it fully.
The edges of his mask lightly scratch against my skin while he kisses and nips gently at my neck and jaw.
He moves against me. The friction builds toward an orgasm while I sigh and gasp.
I know I’m soaked; I can feel it between my legs, knowing I’ll leave that evidence on his pants.
He slides his hand up into my shirt between my breasts, massaging that space tenderly as he growls low in my ear, “No bra? Naughty girl.”
Then he cups my breast and palms my nipple while continuing to kiss the sensitive skin of my neck and cheek. At that moment, I come apart, sparks fly before my eyes, and no one has ever given me an orgasm before. God, what have I been missing?
I can’t believe I just came like this. He didn’t even need to touch the tender skin under my shorts with his hands. Have I really been so touch starved that this does it for me?
Once the spasms subside, he pulls his hand from under my shirt and hooks a finger into the crotch of my shorts, nuzzling gently against my throbbing flesh. The touch makes me let out a light, breathy moan.
“So wet for me,” he groans in response. “Gorgeous.”
Realization crashes over me, I recognize his voice; it IS the man from the bookstore, and even though part of me wants more, another part knows and that word escapes me anyway: softly spoken yet barely audible to myself.
He hears it; suddenly his weight disappears from atop me and I miss the warmth immediately.
I scramble trying to get on my feet, hoping not to slip again I end up climbing back up the steps on my hands and feet, I quickly reach down and grab the knife before rushing through the door behind me, locking it tight after flipping the door latch closed, and tossing the knife into the sink as panic floods through me while looking out through the window down towards the driveway leading to the main road of our community: he’s gone.
What just happened? What have I done? Embarrassment washes over me like fire while terror grips tightly around my heart. I can’t shake off thoughts of Eli seeing any of this on camera; if he does... I’m dead.
Yanking my water bottle off the counter and quickly making my way back inside my library.
I am utterly confused now. I grab my phone and pull up the camera feeds just to check; they had been cycling earlier without even revealing that stalker was here at all.
The cameras remain clear for now, thank goodness.
Thoughts race uncontrollably: Am I a horrible person?
Was that cheating? Did I just cheat on Eli?
Why do I care so much? Bringing my left hand up slowly reveals naked ring finger, no wedding band since the last time Eli forced himself on me, not like tonight.
He’d really hurt me, leaving physical scars on my body and in my mind.
Sliding my chair back against the library door, I crawl under one of my throw blankets, feeling safer there until noticing something new resting atop the nightstand.
Another book! I must have woken up because he was in the room, then tried to leave unnoticed when I came into the kitchen.
.. I lay awake, fantasizing about what would have happened if I’d let him continue.
Simultaneously berating myself for both telling him to stop and letting him go as far as he did.