Chapter 8 Breaking
I'm tired, but I feel some sense of relief now that Amelia at least knows something is wrong, and that I could go to her. I am a little pissed off at Ben for bouncing like that. And just after I decided to break it off with whatever I have going on with a guy I don't even know.
I'm a cheater. Ben would never do something like that to me.
He's the perfect guy, and I don't deserve him.
My body screams at me to try to draw Black out after I leave the afterparty early. I want to know what it would feel like to be fucked by a guy like him only once, especially after he made me cum with the rough pull of his fingers.
I'm sick in the head. That's the only explanation I can think of, so I do the opposite of what I really crave. I take my ass home.
Images of us next to the elevator go through my mind when I wait to go up to my apartment, and I shake my head at myself. This has to end, now.
I put in the code to enter, and stop dead in my tracks when I get inside my living room.
Something is wrong.
The lights in the living room are set to switch on as soon as someone enters, but the apartment remains in darkness. I try to switch on the lights manually, but it's still not working.
"Just what I need." I take my phone out of my bag to call maintenance, but then I hear something from the kitchen.
I freeze, my instincts going haywire.
Someone is in my apartment. I didn't trust my instinct that night when that guy attacked me, and I unwillingly invited a stranger who finger fucks me and leaves me high and dry into my life.
But do I get away from the danger and try to get out before I get slashed to pieces?
No.
Instead, I walk as quietly as possible to the kitchen. Just as I round the corner, a hand clamps over my mouth, and I'm pulled into a hard body.
This time, I fight with all that I have, the adrenaline whooshing in my ears as I thrash and try to bite the fingers over my mouth.
Because the person is not wearing black gloves.
This time, I'm not getting away unscathed, but I will definitely die trying. I step onto his foot with the heel of my boot, ramming into the bridge of his foot, but his boots are hard, and I don't know if I'm actually doing any damage.
How did he get into this building in the first place? This place has high security with the best technology.
If this guy manages to kill me, he will be stupid enough to leave his fingerprints all over my place. My uncle will find him, and he'll be sure to join me in the afterlife.
I buck against him, kicking his shins wherever I can reach, but it seems he's made of fucking steel as he pushes me until my thighs meet the armrest of one of my couches.
Then something sharp meets my throat, and I go still, my eyes going down to see a glint of metal.
Wait.
I breathe in deeply.
Amber and musk.
It's him.
Black.
I missed it because he's not wearing his signature black gloves.
My heart bangs against my ribcage. This time, he's different.
He's not hiding like he used to. He's not wearing any gloves or a helmet, because I can feel his jaw grazing the back of my head.
Will he cut me if I turn my head slightly to get a glimpse?
My apartment is drowned in darkness, but my eyes have adjusted, and I can see silhouettes.
Why is he here without his usual disguise?
Did he come to kill me? Is the blade against my throat the same one that ended another's life?
I inhale when the tip of the sharp blade moves from my throat down the front of my dress.
"Take off your coat." He whispers darkly in my ear.
His voice sends a shiver down my spine. It's low and dangerous, and even though the temperature is regulated, goosebumps break out over my skin as I slide the light coat I was wearing from my shoulders.
The dress I'm wearing is modest and stylish, but a groan comes from Black's chest as if I were wearing the scandalous black dress that he tore from me.
I gulp nervously when the tip of the knife slowly disappears into the neckline, scraping the skin of my left breast.
Just when I thought that this time was different, more measured from him, he cuts the lace of the dress right through as if he were cutting soft butter.
The blade is sharper than anything I have ever experienced, and if he wanted to end me right here, right now, he could do it with just a flick of his wrist.
My bra is next, and my breath comes out in shallow puffs as the glistening metal circles my nipple. I stand as still as a statue as Black's hand leaves my mouth and circles my waist.
I was right.
The palm of his hand is anything but smooth. I can feel the rough edges of calluses as he balls my panties in a fist and rips them from my body, leaving my front completely exposed to him.
"Please don't hurt me." This time, the fear is clear in my voice, the bravery of the other nights nowhere to be found.
I shouldn't have toyed with this man, I should've gone to my uncle and T.J. as soon as I had the chance. He's more dangerous than I gave him credit for. The side street was one thing, but now he's actually inside my apartment.
"Open your legs." He commands, and I immediately comply. "Such a good girl for me, aren't you?"
His tongue traces the shell of my ear, and I shut my eyes tightly, my pussy clearly liking the danger even though I feel close to fainting.
A finger slowly traces the lips between my legs, one of its thickness rimming my slit before slowly entering me.
"Mmm." Teeth graze my earlobe. "You're weeping for me, do you get this wet for your boyfriend, too?"
He knows about Ben. Of course, he does. He probably knows everything about me, and the only things I know about him are that he can kill someone with a clean cut to their throat, that he rides a motorcycle, and that my body responds to him as if I were his puppet.
Even now, with a knife grazing my skin and a finger shallowly fucking me, I can feel my strong ballet legs buckling under desire while my heart gallops with fear.
I yelp out loudly when he shoves me head down over the arm of the couch with my ass sticking up in the air. Then I hear the sound of a zipper in the quietness of the night.
"You wanted to get fucked, didn't you?"