Library

Prologue

Duncan

My mother had warned me about one-night stands not long after I'd come out at seventeen. She'd apologized profusely when I'd somewhat waspishly pointed out that being gay didn't equate to being promiscuous, and I'd meant it when I'd said it. It seemed something of a hollow promise, though, as I lay covered in sweat after indulging in a frenzied bout of frottage with a man I'd only met an hour ago. The only saving grace—although my mother probably wouldn't agree—was that he'd wanted to fuck, but I'd told him I wasn't that sort of boy.

"That was great," I said as I mustered up enough energy to get from the bed to the bathroom to clean up. I left both doors open so I could still talk to him as I sponged the cum—His? Mine? Probably both—from my abs. "There's room for two in here," I called out. "If you wanted to clean up, that is?"

"I'm fine."

I shrugged. I wouldn't judge him for a lack of hygiene. I'd been on the bottom with him braced over me and doing most of the work, so gravity probably dictated that I got the worst of the cum shower. Or the best of it depending on your viewpoint. "You can stay if you'd like. Tonight, I mean. I don't mind."

Silence. When I went back into the bedroom, he was crouched over the backpack he'd brought with him. Despite finding it a little strange he'd brought a bag, I hadn't commented on it. We all had our quirks. At least he was still naked. Nothing stung more than your partner being eager to get dressed after doing the deed. It gave me hope for a round two. Maybe I'd let him fuck me this time. A mutual orgasm was getting to know someone, right? Sorry, Mum.

I threw myself back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. "What's in the bag? Did you bring your toothbrush with you?"

"Not quite."

"What then?"

"It's a surprise."

"Yeah?" My lips curled into a smile as I contemplated what it might be. Some sort of sex toy? I was open to being experimental.

"Roll over."

"Why?"

"So you can't see the surprise."

I dutifully rolled over until my face was in the pillow. It seemed an age before the mattress gave beneath his weight. He straddled me and I smiled at the feel of his naked skin against mine. "You like being in control, don't you?"

"I do," he admitted. "Very much so."

"So what's this surprise, then?"

"Turn your head to the right."

I laughed, the sound dying in my throat as I did what he'd asked and found myself staring at a knife. Not a small knife either, but a long one that looked incredibly sharp. "What's that?"

"Your surprise."

I didn't like the calm way he said it, my blood turning to ice and my heart lodging in my throat. I bucked up, intent on throwing him off and getting him the fuck out of my flat as quickly as I could, because he might find this funny, but I didn't—not in the slightest. He expected the move, using his body weight and a firm grip on my neck to stop me from going anywhere. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Fear had my voice cracking.

"What I need to do."

What the hell was that supposed to mean? "Get off me!" This time, I injected steel into my voice. "You've had your joke, but enough is enough."

He leaned forward, his breath hot against the side of my face. Earlier, it had turned me on. Now, it just disgusted me. "Shhh," he said, the sound chilling. I got it then. This was no joke. Far from it.

I struggled harder against his grip, determined to break free, but my attempts came to nothing. I managed to lift my head and shout, but my face was immediately pressed into the pillow, abruptly silencing the sound after uttering only the first part of "help." He held me there, breathing becoming difficult and white lights dancing at the edge of my vision.

Oxygen. I needed oxygen.

If I could just turn my head to the side. If I could just escape the folds of the pillow. But he wouldn't let me, the hand pressing harder.

I needed to stay conscious. If I didn't, there would be no getting away. I tried to cry out, but only a muffled squeak came out. My last thought before I passed out was that at least I wouldn't find out what the knife was for. It was funny the things you could be grateful for when you were dying.

Comments

0 Comments
Best Newest

Contents
Settings
  • T
  • T
  • T
  • T
Font

Welcome to FullEpub

Create or log into your account to access terrific novels and protect your data

Don’t Have an account?
Click above to create an account.

lf you continue, you are agreeing to the
Terms Of Use and Privacy Policy.