Chapter 8

Cyrus

I stormed outside into the afternoon sunshine and fumbled around in my pocket for my pack of cigarettes. My nerves calmed after my fifth draw. All of my previous ‘relationships' had been fake. The need to appear normal within society and the need to fuck something other than my hand were the only reasons I'd dated, but they had been short-term superficial arrangements. Emilia Molloy was different from anyone I'd met, male or female. I flicked the ash onto the driveway and pulled out my phone to check on my pretty little guest.

As soon as I saw her naked body on my table, my dick jerked in my pants. I sucked on my cigarette before I zoomed in on her face. She wasn't deceitful in her answers, and she didn't struggle with her confinement to the table either. It didn't give her the right to dig into my private life even though she had laid the bulk of my crimes at Simon's door. I'd been looking forward to slicing that fucker up.

"Fucking hell," I muttered to myself. "A fucking virgin."

She was tied up on my table, but instead of killing her, I wanted to vent all my carnal frustrations out on her on my table of death. I paused in bringing my cigarette up to my mouth because her blood would spill, only not in the usual way. The thought of having Emilia's blood smeared on my cock made me leak inside my pants like a fucking horny teenager.

Her pussy had been incredibly tight, and having my fingers soaked by her clear arousal meant our attraction was more than mutual. I took the final drag of my cigarette as I came to the conclusion that she had forced herself into my world and she was old enough to bear the consequences. I stubbed the cigarette out in the nearby flowerbed and took it inside to dispose of. She was making me fucking paranoid, but I wouldn't leave my DNA around.

I braced myself before I went into my kill room because seeing her naked again required strong willpower. Since she couldn't move her head her dark eyes followed me as I began to unstrap her.

"You're going to be my guest until I'm satisfied," I stated while glancing at her dusky pink and brown nipples that I'd had my mouth on.

"Satisfied?" she asked.

"Yes," I said, deliberately not expanding on my statement because she would be satisfying me in many different ways.

I almost traced my fingers over her foot to her shiny, light pink painted toenails.

How the fuck could a foot be sexy?

But then I pictured all sorts of depraved thoughts of her feet alone. I needed to snap the fuck out of this obsession because she was going to be my downfall if I wasn't careful.

"I've cancelled your hotel reservation while you took a nap. How long did you take off from work?" I asked as I looked at her face to ensure she wasn't going to lie to me.

"I took two weeks off," she said as she lifted her head up.

Strands of her hair fell over one side of her face, but her eyes were open and honest. Two weeks wasn't much time, but that was something I could come back to.

"I have a charity masquerade ball tomorrow evening that you will attend with me."

"I know. I'm due to pick up my dress and accessories at a shop tomorrow," she said as she stifled a smile.

I narrowed my eyes at her before I nodded but continued to untie her wrists and body from the table. It was fucking annoying to know she had accessed everything in my home, including my schedule.

"Give me the details and I will have them deliver it to us."

"Uh, I don't think they deliver on the day."

I smirked at her as I pulled her up from the table.

"They will for me. I will show you to your room, and you can come down for lunch once you're settled in. I'm sure you know your way around my house," I said with sarcasm dripping from my voice as I helped her down from the table.

She looked up at me with a cheeky smile, and it still amazed me that she had no fear in her. She was highly intelligent. She had to be if she managed to access my laptop. I needed to find out more about her, but in the meantime, where I went, she went.

**

When she came into the kitchen she wore a black silky blouse with a pair of tailored slacks. Her clothes were modest, with no flesh showing, which was interesting given her age. When my eyes caught the flash of blood red on her feet, it made me smile because the length and shape of the stiletto heels could be used as a deadly weapon.

"Can I help you with anything?" she asked as she looked towards the kitchen.

For her to drug me and take me to the authorities? No, thanks.

"No, thanks. Sit down at the table. I will bring everything over," I said as I pointed towards the table.

It was strange having someone in my house. My relationships were restricted to my house in the city because it was close to my office. A cleaning crew came by once a week and I made sure I was home when they came. No one came into my home. I plated up the Thai green curry and jasmine rice. The table was set, but I picked up a bottle of white wine.

"Woah, did you just make all this now?"

"It wasn't difficult," I said with a shrug.

I blended the curry paste, sauté, add the chicken before leaving it to cook while I made the rice in my rice cooker.

"You cooked this from scratch while I showered and changed?" she asked again in disbelief.

"Why is that so hard to believe? I love travelling and cooking different food. It's much better than ordering out all the time."

"A killer and a cook," she said, wiggling her eyebrows.

I eyed up her clothes and motioned for her to stand up. She groaned when I began to check her for wires.

"You can get miniature cameras with microphones now. I don't know why you keep insisting on fondling me to look for wires," she said with her cheeks tinged with a blush.

"Good point, take all your clothes and jewellery off. You can leave your underwear on," I said as I dropped my hands from her to sit back down.

I began to open the bottle of wine as I watched to see what she would do.