Page 160 of Into the Dark
His touch is warm like always. Male heat. Desire. Strength. Power. It fills me with satisfaction. His touch roams over me possessively, sliding across the lace of my underwear before dipping between my parted legs. “You came home…” I whisper.
I feel his mouth on the backs of my thighs then, his facial hair rough and scratchy as he bites at the skin of my behind. When I hear him let out a small groan I echo it, moving against him as his fingers press into the knot of heat between my thighs. When I try to turn around onto my back he stops me, pressing his weight down on my lower back to pin me beneath him. His touch is a little rougher, but I don’t mind. The rougher his touch the greater his need—I learned that long ago.
“Why are you not naked?” I ask, turning my head to try to entice him into my mouth.
The pressure eases off a little, and I try once more to turn onto my back, but he shifts his body up the bed, covering me, thick, heavy muscle pushing me deeper into the mattress. I’m not sure what happens first: the realization of my waking body as it finally adjusts to the unfamiliar shape and scent or the feel of his hand fisting around the length of my hair to yank my head back.
“Dreaming about me were you, sweetheart?” the voice says close to my ear.
The scream rips from my throat, but it’s silenced a second later by Kevin’s large, odious hand.
Brave. You’re the bravest woman I know.
I wish I knew what he meant by this. Why didn’t I ask him to explain what he meant? I need to know. What would he expect me to do now?
Kevin’s hand is large and hot, and it covers all of my mouth and most of my nose so I can’t breathe properly. I’m surprised at how quickly the hot tears of panic start to pour down my face. Like a switch has been flipped on. Uncontrolled. Unwanted. I don’t want him to see me cry.
Brave. Brave. Brave. I repeat the word over and over in my mind, hoping it might become easier to embody. But it doesn’t. The word becomes less meaningful, more pointless. I’m not brave. I’m weak and afraid and vulnerable. Kevin, by contrast, is none of these things.
When I feel his hand move back between my legs I scream again, my body jolting from its fearful stillness to get away from his touch.
His voice is close to my ear. “No point in struggling, Alex. You’re not gonna get very far, and you’ll only piss me off. Now pack it in,” he tells me. He stops molesting me and uses the arm to pull me tight against him instead. Some grotesque version of spooning, except with his legs thrown over mine, constraining them at the ankles. “We’re just gonna have a chat, that’s all.”
My body won’t stop struggling against him—against his mouth and hands on it; it jackknifes and twists, all white panic and flight.
Then I feel it. Pressed close against my neck. Cold and sharp. My blood sizzles and quickens, rushing to meet the metal point pressing against my clammy skin.
A chat. In my bed. With a knife at my throat.
“Now, I’m gonna take my hand away, but listen to me.” He gives me a forceful shake and tightens his hold. “I’ve no issue slicing your throat from ear to ear right fucking now. In fact, I like the idea of him finding you here in the bed he fucks you in, so don’t tempt me, yeah? I’m fucking warning you. Nod if you hear me, Alex.”
I attempt a weak nod.
“Nod if you understand me, Alex.”
I nod again.
His hand peels away from my mouth and the air rushes in again, and I swallow it whole. Deep breaths in and out.
His threat holds. The idea of making a sound doesn’t even cross my mind. Pointless screaming will serve no purpose. He’ll kill me—I have no doubt about that. A few misplaced screams will only hasten that end.
He shifts his body up the bed so he’s sitting with his back against the headboard and pulls me up with him so I’m nestled between his legs. He still has one arm crossed over my front, the other holding the cool metal against my neck. When he takes a deep inhale, I feel the pressure of it at the back of my skull. Like he’s…smelling my hair.
Bile rises in my throat. This isn’t happening. It’s a nightmare. I’m still asleep. That’s it. This is vivid lucid dreaming.
“Now, isn’t this nice?” he says after a moment, his labored breathing too hot against my ear.
I wet my dry lips with my tongue. “Wh-what are you doing in my house?” I say. Christ, is that my voice?
Kevin makes a tutting noise in the back of his throat. “Doubt you’ll like the answer to that question, sweetheart. You wanna try another one?”
“Jake will be home soon,” I say. “He’s on his way back right now.” The lie sounds so small on my tongue.
“Ahh, now we both know that’s not the case—don’t we, babe?” Kevin sighs. I can’t see it from here, but I hear the smirk in his voice. “You telling me porkies, doctor? Tut, tut. And here was me thinking we were friends.”
“Jake is coming home. He’ll be here any minute.”
“Guess we’ll have a threesome then,” he snickers.