Chapter 20 #2
“Good luck with that,” is all I give him. I won’t provoke him. If anything, I’d rather fling myself out this seventh-story window than tempt him into trying.
His lips curl behind his beard, and Gods above—why couldn’t he have been ugly?
“Get some sleep,” he says. Then he’s gone.
Yeah, right.
Yeah, fucking right, BUTCHER!
It’s been a long time since I felt any sort of… need to relieve myself. I wasn’t innocent before I was twenty, though I hadn’t had many years of sexual activity. But I know exactly what this feeling is.
I’ve not been able to get him out of my head since he left, and I’m miserable. Why’d I open that damn door?
Why, Amarah. Whyyyyy?
It’s the bond. It’s that.
How many times am I going to blame it on that?!
I’m so mad at myself. Maybe it isn’t him I hate, but myself. That’s it.
Dragging my hands through my hair, I stare up into the pitch-black ceiling.
I’ve shut out every trace of light—pressed a pillow against the door to block the hallway glow, unplugged the clock and phone, even covered the TV’s tiny light.
The only reason I’m under the sheet is because I used the heavier blanket to black out the window.
Even from this height, the city lights still manage to slip through the curtain’s gaps, and I can’t stand it.
I need to clear my head, but I can’t do that with the thoughts of his hands never stopping on my legs. For his fingers to have wrapped around my throat instead of just my jaw. The feeling of his beard against every sensitive, broken part of my body. What it would feel like between my thighs…
Woah, woah, woah…
Gods, even just that simple thought has my heart racing and heat building in a place it hasn’t in so, so long.
I move my hand down to my stomach, feeling my bare skin under my fingertips. I’m fine, I can fall asleep without doing anything, or I can just quickly take care of this fucking ache.
Though the thought of touching myself feels—
“Amarah.”
“Ahh!” I literally scream. It isn’t quiet either, and it sends goosebumps straight down my body. My fucking nipples harden at how intense and strong that reaction was.
“I heard that from here, and I’m several rooms down.” The deep chuckle that follows has me squeezing my eyes shut and groaning.
Why can’t he just leave me alone?
“You know…” He… sighs, but it’s not as simple as a huff. No, I can feel the desperation behind it. Oh my Gods, please don’t tell me…
Vendra, if you love me on any spectrum, please tell me I had my walls up. Please… Please?
“Your agony is transferring to my cock, little slayer.”
I… am going to die.
“I know you can hear me. Say something.”
Swallowing, I pull the pillow over my head and scream through closed lips.
“Go away.” What am I, five?!
“I would, but you’re making it extremely… hard to ignore you.” Yeah, my heart’s going to stop, and I can only hope that a Gravemourn will come get me. “What’s got you so worked up?”
“Porno.”
He fucking tuts. “Your television is off. I’ve been listening…”
“That’s a very stalker thing to do, Butcher.”
“Yeah, and you’re a little pervert.” I gasp out loud. “You’re probably laying there, wondering how my hands would feel between your thighs. The ones that were trembling while I shaved your legs… Were you thinking about it then?”
“No! I’m not even thinking about it now. You’re so godsdamn full of yourself.” And I’m a filthy liar. At least that statement is completely true.
“Then not my hands.” I turn onto my stomach and curl my knees up to my chest. “My mouth. Maybe you’ll let me shave that pussy of yours next. Oh… the color your face will turn will be so beautiful.”
“Stop, please. I don’t want you touching, looking, or even thinking about me.”
“Is that so? Test something for me, and be honest with your answer, then I’ll leave you alone.”
I swallow roughly, worried about whatever it is he wants. “And if I lie?” Because honestly, I just might. Then I’ll throw my walls up, and he’ll have to fuck off.
“I’ll come in and check for myself.”
“Check?”
“Will you tell me the truth, little slayer?”
Burying my face into my pillow, I groan and bite onto the pillowcase. “Yes. Then you’ll leave me alone?”
“Mhm.”
Fuck me…
“Okay, what do you want me to test.”
“Take your hand, slide it into your underwear, and then stroke a finger against your pussy for me. Then, I want you to tell me how much of a liar you are, Amarah.”
I don’t need to check, because I know just how absolutely soaked I am. It’s gone as far as to seep through my panties.
“Tick, tock,” he croons.
Shifting onto my side, I don’t go under my underwear, but over them to feel the evidence of how my body betrays my brain. I know I shouldn’t, but I give just a little bit of pressure right over my clit and fucking moan against my closed lips.
“Your heart’s skipping. Tell me how wet my little slayer’s cunt is.”
I want to punch him so godsdamn hard for putting ‘my’ in front of that dumbass nickname. “Fuck you, Butcher.”
“Only when you beg for it. Now tell me, or remember, I’ll come in and find out. You invited me in earlier, remember?”
Oh my Gods!
“You… fucking asshole!”
“Three… two…”
“Wet! Ten out of ten super-soaker!”
It’s like I can hear the grin in his words. “How does it feel to know your pussy weeps for a man you hate?”
“I absolutely despise you. Good-fucking-night!”
I hear his thunderous laugh, and I immediately slam my walls back into place. My hands fly up to cover my face, and I let out a muffled scream of pure, exhausted frustration.