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Moving my face down, her eyes flare open right before I clasp her lips with mine. She tastes sweet and refined, tastes how I always imagined that she would. I force her lips open, sliding my tongue over hers and I feel an accomplished flash in my chest when she lets out a moan.
Her hands go to my upper arms, her hips rising and lowering while her little body holds onto me. I pull that annoying cover aside, sliding my hand around her waist and push her up against my chest. She’s so fucking warm, so responsive all of the sudden that she feels like liquid in my arms. I can’t ever let her go. Her softness is such a contrast against everything hard in my life. Taking her away from the world was worth it.
She has nobody to turn to but me. No matter how long this will last, it was all worth it because for now she is all mine.
I groan when she kisses me with the same hunger I kiss her but in the back of my mind a persistent thought lingers. Why is she suddenly so reactive, why suddenly so eager to please me? But I don’t want to probe, don’t want to find something I won’t like.
Instead I decide to use her when she’s like this, sliding my hand up her thigh, preparing to yank off her underwear when she presses her palms against my chest and takes her sweet mouth away. She’s panting, her eyes glassy when she leans back against the pillows but she seems conflicted about something and I look down at her.
I know I’m frowning because she swallows before whispering. “Think I better go to sleep now.”
I’d prefer it if she stayed awake but I nod. Her eyes close and it doesn’t take long before her breaths turn even and her body relaxes. She’s sleeping. Or is she? I lean back when I notice that her lids are still moving. She’s only pretending.
Figures.
I still don’t move, letting her know that I’m not falling for her little act and she lets out a defeated sigh, turning on her stomach. It takes her a long time to drift off but when I’m sure that she’s far away in dreamland, I take out the cuffs from my pocket.
Gently clasping her wrist, I cuff it to the bed, then stroke her hair off her face. She murmurs something in her sleep. She’s so sweet, so good. I convince myself that she’s going to get used to this. And even if she never guesses my name, she might still grow to love me.
Nine
Daphne
I wake up with a twitch in the middle of the night. Or maybe it’s close to dawn by now and I drag a breath. I wasn’t supposed to fall asleep but I couldn’t help it. Husband stayed in my room for such a long time that I had no choice.
I blink to get used to the dark before gently pulling out the drawer and my one free hand digs around for a bobby pin. This better work. Only problem is that I’m going to have to enter Husband’s bedroom. Yesterday he fished out the key to the front door from the pocket of his slacks and hopefully he put it back there.
I’m going to have to be silent while looking for it, then quickly grab it and then I’m free. Biting the inside of my cheek, I dig around with the bobby pin and it’s not as easy as I first thought but when it finally unlocks, I start shaking.
Now what?
Jerking, I sit up in bed. Now I need to get out. Husband threw away my flats, my skirt and my blouse and I wonder whether to put on some of the dresses he got me. I decide against it because they’re tight and too snug, I won’t be able to run in those.
I know that the fur he got for me is hanging downstairs and the boots I wore previous night go all the way up to the thigh and there’s no high heel. It’ll keep me warm enough until I get to town. And thank goodness town isn’t that far away. If it was, my plan would probably be impossible.
Sneaking over the floor, I grit my teeth when opening my closed bedroom door. If this makes a loud sound then...it doesn’t and I breathe out. I enter the hallway on my tiptoes and my heart is beating so hard that this feels like a life or death situation.
Maybe it is.
What will he do when he realizes that I’m gone? Will he try to come after me? Probably but I’ll be so far away that it won’t matter if he comes after me or not. And once I’m in safety I’m going to call the cops. I’m going to report him for kidnapping me.
Yeah, I’ll definitely do it...I’ll definitely call the cops on him...Or maybe I won’t. Maybe I don’t have it in me to lock him up. Evil men belong behind bars. And Husband isn’t evil. He’s just extreme...
My body tenses. Look at me, I’m already making excuses for him, already seeing him in a golden shimmer that probably has nothing to do with reality. I need some steel in my spine, need to toughen up but it’s hard when there is something disarmingly familiar about him.
Something disarmingly affectionate too.
Running a hand through my hair, I shake my head. I have a job to do and I glance at the half-open door leading to his bedroom. I can’t hear any snores, no mattress creaking from when he shifts his weight around. Everything is dead silent and I get an image in my head where he is hiding behind the door, fully aware of what I’m about to do.
I already know I can’t fight him, been there, done that and it didn’t work. But it doesn’t mean I’ll give up easily and I straighten my head. That’s right. He kidnapped me, he turned me into a doll, he cuffed me, he killed a man for me, he took me to a restaurant, he doesn’t like it when I try to escape...
Husband is not reliable. I keep repeating that to myself, trying to get it to stick to my mind and I hold my breath when I put my hand up on the knob. My pulse is racing like a wild mustang when I push it forward.
I’m hit by darkness and the smell of him. It’s steely and makes me weak, makes me want to bend. Even bend over backwards if necessary. The magnetic pull of him is unfair and how can he control me this much even when he’s asleep.
And he is asleep, right?
I can’t know for sure, can’t see his face but he’s laying still in his bed so I decide to trust that right now the coast is clear. Looking around for the clothes he wore yesterday, I notice that his pair of dark slacks is spread over a chair in the corner and my heart starts thumping.
