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With a taunting smirk, he put my fingers in his mouth. His warm tongue made something shift deeply in the pit of my stomach. He sucked, licked and bit on my fingers, all while staring at me.
I didn’t dare to break eye contact. I was afraid of what would come next. I wasn’t prepared to embrace this sick, twisted side of me, and this was the first and last time I ever acted so irresponsibly.
This man could have me dead, send my body parts to my parents, or make sure my body never gets discovered, and here I was, fantasizing about him fucking me, allowing him to watch me while I masturbated and even stared at him while he sucked the orgasm off my fingers.
I was disgusted with myself.
And here he was, slowly releasing my fingers, tenderly placing them on the mattress.
‘‘You taste so good, Bambi.’’
This chasing game is getting too exciting.
Does it turn you on to run from me?
Or are you simply too afraid to stop running?
X
STORM
I took a small bite of the scrambled eggs and put the fork on the plate.
My hands were cold, and I was very anxious.
Micah came to my room this morning and told me to come down for breakfast. It wasn’t a question, and it wasn’t a plea. It was merely a statement that I was to come have breakfast with him, with a hint of threat behind his words.
He was sitting in front of me, but he wasn’t eating.
He was just staring at me, and that made it impossible for me to eat. I was starving, but could barely even take the smallest bites. His cooking was good, but the way he eyed me up and down made me too nervous.
What if he poisoned my food? What if he put in some sleeping pills in order for me to pass out and then take me to a secondary location?
‘‘Stop staring at me,’’ I whispered out, my voice cracking.
I played with my fingers, hands on my lap. I avoided eye contact at all costs, especially after what happened last night.
I didn’t remember it until I was sitting across from him, seeing him face to face.
I brushed it off as another very vivid dream, but then I realized that I did take a shower, and had different underwear on than the one I had on after the shower. He switched it while I was asleep, and although it would’ve been uncomfortable waking up to a ruined pair, him changing me while I was sleeping made me shiver.
‘‘Why?’’
It was a simple question, yet there were too many layers to it. It was sarcastic, with a hint of hurt. Though, I doubted I could ever make a man like him actually hurt, so I settled on seeing the question as him mocking me, given that he stared a lot more last night.
‘‘It’s making me uncomfortable, and when I’m uncomfortable, I can’t eat.’’
Silence fell upon us.
I continued to look at my hands, finding my fingers and thighs very intriguing. I couldn’t look up even if I wanted to. It was like a force was pulling my gaze down, and the thought of what I’d see on his face made me slightly tremble.
‘‘You better eat everything on your plate, or I’ll shove the food down your throat. I won’t allow you to starve yourself.’’
When I didn’t respond, he took it upon himself to have a one-sided conversation.
‘‘You’ve gotten thinner since I saw you in prison.’’
Ultimately, that sentence alone was enough for me to swallow all the discomfort I was feeling and glance up. I straightened my posture, hearing a small crack in my lower back.
