Chapter 2
Ainsley
“ L et’s get out of here,” I whisper seductively in Owen’s ear. When I pull away, I see him smiling widely, excitement written all over his face.
Owen is attractive, the sort of guy I would have gone for just a few months ago. His tousled blonde hair is begging me to run my fingers through it, and his dark blue eyes remind me of someone I shouldn’t be thinking about right now. On top of all that, his hands fit perfectly on my hips and I’ve had a blast dancing with him. I can only imagine how good he would be with those movements, minus the clothing.
I can feel the monster watching me from somewhere in the room, waiting to see if I’ll really do this, but I ignore the creepy sensation. I told him three months ago that this was over. His constant texts and having Ethan check on me need to stop.
If taking another man home is what it will take to make that happen, then Owen isn’t a terrible choice.
I leave Owen to find Cassie, and tell her my plans, withholding the part about proving a point to the monster. She tells me she’ll go to her boyfriend’s apartment when she’s all danced out, to give me some privacy. Violet went on a trip with her boyfriend for Spring break, so the apartment will be empty for the night.
I find Owen again and drag him out of the bar by his hand. Glancing back every once in a while, I throw him shy smiles as we push through sweaty, dancing bodies.
“Your place or mine?” he asks once we’re outside and don’t have to be in each other’s ears to have a conversation.
“Mine,” I answer quickly. The monster won’t get the message if he doesn’t see what’s happening.
Will he be watching us? The thought does something funny to my insides, but I don’t have time to analyze that right now. I’m on a mission.
After dragging Owen down a few blocks, we reach the apartment building I missed when I was taken away from it. I never thought a place like this could feel like home to me until I spent months not being able to return to it.
Owen laughs; a deep, throaty sound as I fight with the lock on the apartment door. When it’s finally open, I pull him in and close the door behind him, making sure to lock it. Not that the one person I’m trying to keep out can’t get in other ways.
When the door is locked, I turn back to Owen with plans to get this started, but his eyes are glued to something on the floor. I follow his gaze, finding tiger lily petals trailing through the living room.
“What is this?” Owen asks, wariness in his voice.
“I have no idea,” I answer, lying through my teeth. Tiger lilies are my favorite flower, and with the monster being at the bar earlier, it’s easy to assume he made a quick stop here first. “I have two roommates, one of their boyfriends might have done this as a surprise for them.”
He accepts my explanation, ignoring the flowers and turning back to me. I take the chance to run my hand up his chest, teasing him to get back into the mood.
He doesn’t hesitate for a second longer. His hands cup my jaw as he drags me to him, crashing his lips to mine in a sloppy kiss. His lips are soft and pillowy, moving against mine like water, but they’re not right.
Stop thinking about him, I chastise myself. There’s a perfectly good man here with me, helping me prove a point, even if he doesn’t know it.
“My bedroom is back there,” I tell him as I break the kiss, pointing to the door at the back of the apartment. When he sees where we’re going, he turns back to me and places his lips back to mine. This time, he picks me up so my legs wrap around his waist as he walks us through the apartment.
“Are you sure about this?” Owen asks as he pushes open my bedroom door. Instead of answering, I cup my hands around his jaw like he did to me and tilt his head to look up at me. My answer is my tongue pushing through his lips, demanding entrance. He moans as our tongues dance together and shoves my back against a wall as he kicks the door shut.
It’s dark in here, but I know he can hear through the cameras, too.
“I’m so fucking hard for you, baby,” Owen moans against my mouth as he grinds his hips into mine. I can feel it through his jeans, pushing against me.
His mouth moves from my lips to my neck, trailing further down as he tries to contain himself. I give him small pants and whimpers, letting him know I like what he’s doing and encouraging him to continue, but I can’t make my mind stop wandering.
Is he watching? If he is, what is he thinking? It’s not unlike him to lash out after I’ve done something bad, but he dared me to do this. If he didn’t want me to go through with it, he could have just said something.
Not that I would have listened.
I deserve this. A nice, normal guy that wants to be with me, even if it’s just for one night. Maybe that’s all Owen will be, but that’s all he has to be.
When Owen pulls away from my neck, I grab the hem of my shirt and pull it over my head, leaving me in my bra. Even in the dark, his gaze takes in every inch of skin I’m willing to show him.
One of his hands leaves my butt, using his weight to keep me pinned against the wall as he slowly lowers the strap of my bra and pulls my breast out of the lacy cup.
“Wow, your tits are amazing,” Owen tells me. I roll my eyes, knowing he can’t see it, even if the lights were on. His eyes focus on the soft, pink nipple staring back at him, trying with all of his power to see it in the darkness.
I wish he wouldn’t talk. He’s trying to make this more personal by complimenting me and talking dirty, but I want no part of it. I just want to be two strangers in the night, enjoying each other’s bodies. Is that so wrong?
“I’m going to suck your nipple so hard, you’re going to come so hard without me even touching your pussy.”
Inwardly, I cringe. The more he talks, the less attractive he becomes. But, on the outside, I act like I’m into it.
“Yes,” I moan. He dips his head down, trying to tease me by slowly getting closer to my nipple. Just as I can feel his breath skating across my skin, he stops and his whole body goes stiff.
“Owen? What’s wrong?”
The switch next to me flips, flooding the room with light and illuminating the situation in front of me. My first reaction is to scramble off of Owen and pull my bra back up to hide myself, which shows just how much I care about the man I was about to take into my bed.
“Ainsley?” Owen calls my name, terrified to move with a knife pressed against his throat. It’s not him I’m looking at, though.
“I don’t enjoy hearing another man’s name on your lips, little one,” the monster tells me as he looks at me through the eyes of his mask. A mask I never thought I’d see again, especially since he was finally comfortable enough to show me his face.
“Then you’ll probably want to leave, because I wasn’t done,” I inform him, putting as much attitude in my voice as I can with the shock of seeing him here. Owen looks at me with wide eyes, horrified that I would backtalk the man holding him in such a vulnerable position.
The monster growls at me, his knife pressing further against Owen’s throat until a trickle of blood flows down his neck. Owen whimpers pathetically, still afraid to move.
“Oh, you’re done, little one. There’s no question about that.”
In one swift movement, he pulls the knife away from Owen’s throat and grabs his arm, snapping it in half. The sound of crunching bones fills my ears, making me want to gag while the monster drops Owen’s arm as I watch it dangle there limply.
It takes a second for the situation to register with Owen, but once it does, all he feels is pain. He screams out in agony, an ear-piercing scream that has me covering my ears.
When he realizes he’s free, he yanks the bedroom door open and runs out, holding his limp arm as he goes. I turn my back to the monster, searching for my shirt on the floor so I can get dressed again. I’m almost grateful I didn’t have to go through with that, but also annoyed that I didn’t get to make a point.
“Don’t turn away from me, Ainsley,” the monster orders me, anger seeping into his tone. He’s controlling himself pretty well, considering what just happened.
“I’m surprised you let him walk out of here,” I muse, plucking my shirt off the ground. Before I can pull it over my head, it’s pulled from my hand and thrown back on the ground.
With a huff of annoyance, I turn around to find blue eyes staring at me through the skull mask. I spent so long seeing him like this; I know how to read his emotions through only his eyes. Right now, he’s practically shaking with rage.
“He didn’t know any better. You, on the other hand, are more than deserving of my punishment,” he tells me. He grabs me by the throat, dragging me back to the wall I was just pushed against while Owen was grinding against me.
“I did nothing wrong,” I force out through my teeth. “We’re not together. I can sleep with whoever I want.”
His grip tightens, taking away my air as my eyes open with panic. “Is that what you think?”
With his free hand, he finds the button on my jeans and pops it open. As he rips open my zipper, I tap on his arm, signaling that he needs to let go. He releases his grip enough for me to pull in a lungful of air, my whole body screaming at the lack of oxygen it just endured.
“Stop,” I beg him, not actually expecting him to listen. I just need to get the word out so he knows I don’t want this. When I thought of him watching me with Owen, I thought it would be through the camera, not while he was sitting somewhere in the darkness of my bedroom. If I had known he was still here, I wouldn’t have put Owen through that.
“That’s not really what you want, is it?” the monster asks with a humorless chuckle. “Your goal for tonight was to come. I’m only giving you what you want.”
Except, with him, it’s never that simple. Nothing with him is ever that simple. He pushes at my jeans, trying to get them off of me, and growls when he finds it’s not an effortless task. Finally, he releases my throat, allowing me to breathe freely.
With his body weight, he keeps me pushed up against the wall, but now both hands are available to free me from my jeans. When he pulls at one of my feet, I lift it without fighting. There’s no point fighting him when he’s like this. He pulls my leg completely free of the denim, moving to the next foot to do the same.
When he’s done, I’m standing in front of him in nothing but my bra and underwear. “What a sight,” he whispers as his eyes look me up and down, enjoying the view he hasn’t seen in three months.
After taking in all of me, he reaches behind me to unclasp my bra, letting it fall to the floor. Being in front of him like this doesn’t make me feel vulnerable, it makes me feel powerful. If I wanted to, I could take control of this whole situation, and he would be putty in my hands. But, I’m too curious about what his plan is.
“Are you ready for your punishment, little one?” he growls at me, pulling the knife back out of his pocket as his hand clamps around my mouth, taking away my ability to answer.
I try anyway, yelling against his hand to get him to stop. He doesn’t listen. The monster promised me he would never hurt me, didn’t he?
He slips the knife under the strap of my thong, pulling until it cuts right through. He does the same to the other hip, leaving my favorite thong in pieces as he pulls it off of me and throws it to the ground.
“Remember that time I offered to fuck you with my gun?” he asks, sounding more casual than he should while saying something so twisted. My eyes widen as he lifts the knife, the meaning behind his question suddenly becoming crystal clear.
I thrash against him, trying to get out of his hold, but it’s no use. He’s much stronger than I am, and I’ve angered him. All I can do is hope he’ll change his mind. Unintelligible words try to make it through his hand, but it’s pointless. Even if he could understand me, he wouldn’t listen.
He lowers the knife between us as he kicks my legs apart, giving himself enough access. When the cold metal of the handle slides along my pussy, I buck into him, not ready for that sensation.
He pulls it back up between us and pulls his mask away from his face enough to fit the knife under it. He moans, and I don’t know if he’s licking it or smelling it.
“I’ve been craving that taste for too long, little one,” he tells me, answering that question. I whimper against him as a volt of electricity shoots straight to my center when the image of him licking my arousal off a knife plays through my mind.
He pulls the knife back out, letting the mask fall back into place as it once again dips between us. This time, I’m prepared for the cold, but it’s still a shock. He circles the handle of the knife around my clit, pulling more moans out of me as I become more aroused.
“Relax for me, and take this knife up your pussy like the dirty little slut you wanted to prove you are,” he commands me. With no more warning, he pushes the knife inside of me. “Such a good fucking girl.”
My eyes fall closed as the praise bounces around my head. I almost forgot how much I loved when he would praise me. As he pulls the knife out and thrusts it back in, his thumb finds my clit, rubbing gentle circles around it. Before too long, my hips are meeting the knife thrust for thrust, and the monster takes his hand from my mouth.
“Kiss me,” I beg him, not caring about the consequences of this moment anymore. I can worry about it in the morning.
“If this was a reward, we’d be in your bed with my cock buried so far inside of you, you wouldn’t be able to breathe. You don’t get the sweet side of me tonight, and that includes kisses.”
His thrusts become quicker as my legs begin to quiver, struggling to hold me up as my orgasm builds.
“Please,” I beg again, hoping to get him to give in. I’ve missed him, even if I’ve refused to admit it to myself.
“Are you going to let another man touch you?” There’s anger still in his voice, even with the way he’s punishing me, but I can also hear the arousal. I use it to my advantage as I reach in front of me, my hand finding the hardness through his jeans like a magnet. He groans when I make contact, but doesn’t falter with his thrusts or the circling of my clit.
“Answer me, Ainsley,” he demands as my hand strokes him, wishing there wasn’t fabric between us. “Is any man besides me allowed to touch you?”
“Not in my apartment, where you like to hide or watch me through the cameras,” I answer, knowing it’ll make him angry.
He thrusts the knife into me with every word as he says, “No. Man. Is. Going. To. Touch. You.”
Then, with that, he stops his movements and pulls the knife out. He leaves me throbbing, willing to do anything if he’ll only let me jump over that edge.
“Understand?” he asks.
“Yes!” I cry, willing to say anything if he’ll just finish what he started.
“Who is the only man allowed to touch you?”
“The monster,” I answer, refusing to use his name. I haven’t thought of his name since the day I left him. He became the monster in my head again, and I’m not going back.
“Good girl,” he praises, shoving the knife back inside of me and strumming my clit with renewed vigor. He grunts with each thrust, and before I know it, my pussy is clamping around the handle of a knife as I cry out, trying to keep a clear enough head to keep myself from crying out his name.
When he’s done riding out my orgasm with me, he lifts the knife back up and pulls his mask up to show me the mouth I desperately wanted to kiss only a few minutes ago. I watch as his tongue darts out, licking off the mixture of my orgasm and his blood from the knife. He cleans it, watching me watch him the entire time.