Page 5 of The Demon of Detroit
He opens the door to the bedroom he picked out for me and flicks on the light. It’s an enormous space, with an ornate bed on one end and a living room on the other.
“It’s perfect,” I say, dumbfounded at the sheer size of the room.
“Wonderful. Then I’ll let you get settled in.” He drops my things off on the bed and leaves without another word.
I still don’t know how I should feel about any of this. Scared is probably the right reaction, but how can I be afraid when Harker has shown me nothing but kindness throughout the whole experience? He’s given so much in so little time that I can’t help but feel something bad is looming around the corner.
But what if there isn’t?
What if it’s all just perfect?
4
HARKER
“Penelope?” Just saying her name sends a shiver down my spine. It’s a name I’ve known for so long, yet every time I utter it, I feel like a naughty boy taking the Lord’s name in vain for the first time.
I’m standing in her doorway. It’s open, but no response comes from her.
“Are you in there?” I peek my head through the door.
Empty.
I’ve been a terrible host. I ran during a moment of potential intimacy out of fear. I’m not ready to expose myself to her, and she deserves time to get comfortable in this new situation. Even so, I never saw a glimmer of fear in her eyes as I spoke my truth. As I professed my intrigue and interest in her. My wants and desires. Subtle, perhaps, but every word was sincere.
She smiled her white-toothed smile and her cheeks grew rosy, but never once was there any consternation.
At least, I hope not.
“I fear I’ve been a terrible host,” I speak to the emptiness. In my hasty escape, I never gave her a tour of my home. Perhaps that’s where she’s off to now, finding her way to the kitchen for a drink of water or a snack from the pantry.
A sound from the bathroom catches my attention. An angelic noise that tickles my eardrums. She’s humming a tune, and like a siren’s song, I’m lured closer to it. To the door that’s left ajar.
Closer to her.
As I near, I hear the sound of rushing water, and it makes blood roar in my ears.
Turn away, Harker. She’s busy, the logical voice inside my head demands.
But I’ve been making it a habit of throwing logic out the window with every action I’ve undertaken since I received the invitation to her birthday. What’s a few more bad decisions before the end of the night?
The sound of pouring water stops just before I make it to the crack in the door.
“Okay,” I hear her melodic and sing-song voice. It’s followed by a splash as she enters the bath.
Don’t do this. It’s not too late to turn away now.
But it is.
Reasoning with myself has never been a struggle before. My mind is a strongbox that understands the good from bad in every situation. But it’s not me fighting this time. It’s my heart, my cock, and my mind dueling in a standoff, and the thickness forming in my pants seems to be the winner.
I press my face into the crack in the door and see Penelope there in all her splendor. She hums in satisfaction as she slides lower into the water. She’s fucking stunning. Wide hips round and curve into a perfect peach-shaped ass. The trimmed and shaped light tuft of golden hair on her pubic region.
Then…
A thin waist expands upward to the perfect handful-sized breasts, with two sharp, pink nipples sticking just out of the water’s line. Long, pale legs that stretch out in the clawfoot bathtub. I can see everything, apart from the slit between her legs.
My cock throbs against my pants, and it makes my bones ache. Every ounce of blood has pumped through my heart and straight to it. I’m lightheaded and dizzy, yet so fucking eager to kick down this door and claim what’s mine.