The small voice hiding away inside of me began to crackle and whisper. This is what you want, the voice said.
No. Not what I had in mind when I thought about a guy tying me down. Not this.
Then why are you aroused?
I’m not. Not...
This is what you need.
I breathed shallowly, watching his every move. His other hand still held my nipple tight, the ache there beginning to throb through my stomach. He did not watch my body: his eyes were fixed on mine.
“Tell me about this bet.”
“Please—”
“Tell me.” His thumb rubbed my nipple, rolling it hard. I moaned. He eased off and his other hand stroked me through the fabric, so gently that my body arched to meet him before I pulled myself away. My core clutched itself with repulsive need, and I felt myself grow wet. I threw my head to one side, closing my eyes. No. I didn’t want him. Didn’t need him.
Maybe if I told him everything he would leave me alone. Maybe he would see how harmless I was, let me go.
The small voice said: maybe he’ll give you what you want.
I gulped air and spoke.
“It was stupid. My friend said I should kiss the first attractive guy I saw. And—
“And you saw me.”
“Yes.”
“And you thought I was attractive?” He pushed harder.
“Yes,” I moaned.
“What was it that attracted you?” His fingers split apart, stroking both sides of me through my panties, but not the middle. Not where I ached. The fabric was soaked through and I ached, god, I ached so badly.
“I don’t—I don’t—”
“Tell me. What was it about me?”
“You looked…” My heart was pounding. I needed release. It was horrific to be so aroused with nothing to do about it. My arms were pinned back and I twisted under the straps, trying to get out.
“Yes?”
I breathed in deeply. I had to answer. My mind cast back to that day, a week ago.
“You looked… lonely. Like you needed someone to make things better.”
He paused, and the ache that swept through me at the pause took away my breath. Touch me, I wanted to cry out. Don’t stop. I bit my lip hard.
“Kitten,” he said. “You might understand me, a little bit. But I didn’t need to kiss someone to make things better. I kill people to make things better. Bad people.”
He smiled and ice ran through my veins.
“And now I’m not lonely either. I have you.”
With those words, he rested my head back down onto the table and left me in the kitchen, still aching for release that he would not give me.
Gav
She was a complication, indeed. My head swam with it even though I hadn’t had a single sip of brandy that day. She kaleidoscoped my world. And I had just finished spring cleaning!
I left as soon as I found myself beginning to respond to her body. Attraction is a dangerous thing. I couldn’t risk falling for anyone, not even one with a body as lush as hers. It disappointed me that she tried to escape. She cut her body up so badly.
Not as badly as before, I thought, thinking about the small white seams along her wrists.
But no. I needed to train her to behave. Not to run away. To stay inside properly. She could be my pet, the little kitten. And once she learned to behave, then… maybe. Maybe I could chance something.
Not yet, though. I run the risk of overlooking something, like the window. There will be many ways to escape, and she would be looking for all of them. And it would be a terrible thing to have to kill her.
Ah, my kitten. Your curiosity infected me.
I’m human, certainly. I can breed with other humans, and my offspring would be human. I’m just not a person.
There’s no emotion behind anything that I do. This curiosity was a new thing.
In my line of work, I’ve seen many bodies. Fat, thin, muscled, scrawny. Many of them have scars. A seam along their stomach from a gastric bypass surgery. White marks on the knees from childhood bicycle accidents. I thought that nothing about a body could make me feel anything at all. It’s just flesh, just cells. But the scars on her wrists would not go away. When I closed my eyes, I saw them.
That night I stayed up staring at the ceiling. My finger drew a line down my wrist, tracing the path she must have carved with a knife. I shuddered.
Who could do such a horrible thing?
CHAPTER SEVEN
Kat
An hour passed, maybe two, before he came back to the kitchen. I’d calmed down a bit. There was no way he would have stitched up a cut before murdering me, right? At least, that made sense in my mind. If I could keep him placated, I could figure out a way to get out, even if it took a while. Even if he did… other things to me. I shuddered at the twist of unwelcome desire that ran through me at the thought.