Chapter 20

Iwas on my knees at the shadow man's feet before I even had the mental capacity to acknowledge what I had mindlessly done.

Obey. Like a pet. His pet. And there was something about that feeling that felt nice, another defect of mine, I guess. A groan rumbled in the back of his throat in response to my submission. My heart fluttered, and my stomach swirled. He hadn't said another word since he called me his pet. Hearing his voice made me feel another thing more than I didn"t need to. It was deep, really deep. And hoarse.

It was strong, and powerful, making my core hum. Yet, it was also married with sadness. Likewise to his scent and presence, I would never forget his voice. It has been etched into my mind in a way I could not explain.

Little swallowtail.

My favourite butterfly. I knew it was him who had taken my drawings from my room when he was stalking me. I shuddered at the thought of being stalked again. Bile pooled in my throat. I'd not eaten for days. But it was hard to shove aside the gags. I squirmed from his touch as he stroked my head, like a dog. I caught a whiff of my scent, realizing I stunk an unholy amount. I hadn't showered in more days than I'd not eaten.

Only blessed with the subtle touch of hygiene when I washed my hands after using the toilet. Thankfully, my period was light, and I could hold in most of the clots until I was allowed to use the restroom again. I had managed to wipe up some of the blood that had leaked in between toilet breaks with my dress.

He only came into his room to let me out of my cage to release my bodily fluids and left when he threw me back in again. It was getting easier to walk without throbs shooting up my nerves from my feet. Funny how spending days without standing healed wounds. My stomach rumbled, I was starving. He planted his index finger under my chin, pulling it up slightly to meet his gaze.

I could barely see him through the blur of my tears. They didn't fall but they temporarily blinded me. I think he took in the pity I was, in a heap under him on my knees. Dirty, weak, vulnerable, sore, starving. Though, I was sure that was just how he liked seeing me. Confusion suddenly slapped me in the face. My freakishly tall, psychopathic, masked, lunatic kidnapper… was drawing a bath. I gulped hard. What was my fate? I didn't know if he was going to kill me in it, or bathe me, or bathe himself in front of me as another form of torment.

The shadow man stood behind me, I squirmed and muttered a whimper to the unusual sensation of his fingers as they ran through my knotted hair, brushing the knots before letting the tendrils fall against my back. His finger followed my spine, trailing down to the zipper of my dress, the feeling a little too intimate. He fiddled at the zipper teasingly, and a breathy moan freed from my lips. The suspense ripped havoc in my veins, leading right to my pussy. Oh, for fuck"s sake.

He was quick to move, his index finger pressing against my lips. He wanted my silence. Through an unsteady breath, I complied. Sucking my lips into my mouth and swallowing over the lump in my throat. I jumped and then tensed from the cold shock of the jagged edge of his knife sliding down my arm. I peered at it in the corner of my eye, seeing it was blunt side down.

He lodged it under the sleeve of my dress and sliced through the fabric with ease. It wasn't the first time his knife had kissed my skin, but it shook me all the same. The flutters of excitement between my thighs stirred, and I arched from the sensation. Something about him scaring me and not hurting me relished me to my core. The pressure of the knife left a white line against my skin.

He repeated the slice to the other side when another involuntary breathy moan fell again. I had no control. I squeezed my thighs together to relieve the throb as he entwined his fingers in my hair. He pulled my head back to look at him standing tall above me and held his index finger over the mask, somewhere where his lips would be. Shooshing me.

He growled in his signature don't-challenge-me way. But I wanted to. I wanted him to speak again. Come on, say something. Do something. But he didn't. He gestured with his hand for me to get up, and I did as he asked. Thankful the pain at my feet was nowhere near as bad as it was days ago. Either I was healing, or I was getting used to the pain.

My skin felt like it was about to melt, and a bead of sweat trickled down my neck. His knife met the small of my back at the bottom of the zipper. I bit down on my lip, hard, trying to mute the moan that was threatening to blurt out. What the fuck was wrong with me? He carefully dug the knife into the fabric upside down so as not to cut me. The throbbing intensified from the touch. And in one swift movement, he dragged the knife in an upward motion along the side of the zipper. My body jolted forward from the pressure of him pushing into me, eliciting the moan that I was trying to keep down. The filthy crimson dress separated like cracking an egg and pooled at my feet. Leaving my bare dirty skin, and the stunning green matching lingerie set he had given me, now exposed to him for his appeasement.

A hungry tormenting groan escaped his lips. Arousal. His breaths quickened. I wondered if it was hard to breathe with the mask on, especially now, as we were both enveloped by sexual heat. Goosebumps rose on my skin, even though I was scalding on the inside as his fingers twiddled and tormented the flesh under the clips of my bra. I arched from his touch once more, he was slow with it, letting me adjust to the newness.

He gradually unhooked the clasps of my bra. I gasped as it sprung open and fell to the floor. Nerves tingled me. I was almost naked. He grabbed my shoulder and spun me to face him. My heart skipped a beat before finding a steady rhythm again, and I gulped down the lump in my throat, my nerves riddling my breath.

His finger dipped into the pocket between my belly fold and under my panty line. His warm touch sent me into overdrive. I moaned, hard and loud. The sensation of an orgasm built heavy into a tight pressure, but the jagged edge of his blade brought me back into the here and now. He nudged it firmly against the arc of my pelvis, just like last time. I shuddered, pushing the stars in my brain away. The temptation to not rip off his mask and kiss him was hard to choke at. He dropped to his knee, not letting the knife move an inch. The curled horns were at my nipple level now, almost brushing them.

The temptation to touch them won me over, and I trailed my fingers over the cool horn, enough so that he didn't notice. They felt like they were made with a thin type of material, like from a 3D printer. Very slowly he pried at my panties, and pulled his head up to look at me.

That electric wave hit me again like it had in the garden after the ball, the night I grabbed his hand. He groaned deeply, as if he felt it too. I gasped as he forcefully pushed his hand between the slit of my thighs. Leaving me no choice but to pry them open, and I was only happy to comply, until the tug of shame washed over me. Remembering I still had my period, I clamped my legs together in protest, but he growled and held them open.

I rolled my head back, looking at the ceiling before closing my eyes, out of sight out of mind. He tugged at my panties, and something made contact with my clit. I was soaked, and not from blood. Whiplash hit me hard and fast from the sensation, and a sound I didn't warrant intrusively escaped my mouth, another loud moan. He drew in a rapid breath through his teeth. He was crashing in waves under me, like he was staring at the gates of heaven. He was weak. Vulnerable. Purring.Shit, I was his weakness.

"Fuck." he muttered breathlessly. I couldn't hold back. I panted heavily under him, and he swirled the little bud again. A need for my killer pounded within me. I had no control over my mouth or my body. I looked down at him as he stared at my exposed, glistening, and crimson pussy. The shadow man was longing for me, and I only returned the same desire. I wanted him to take my virginity right here and now. And didn't that just fuck my head a little more? I wanted to fuck a killer. My killer.

Fuck.

I wanted his kiss against me. No, I needed his kiss against me. So fucking bad. Why? Why did he make me feel this way? He swirled again and shuddered. I almost came undone for him there and then, but he stilled.

"No, please." I gasped without thinking. I didn't want to say that. I didn't mean to say that. But I did. Gah! I wanted all of it so much. I wanted a release. I needed a climax.

"You're pretty when you beg." he mocked.

Shit, I was… begging. Like a fucking dog for a treat. A pet. I tasted the sensation for a moment, and it felt nice. Hot. The shadow man stood, leaving me panting and hungry. I flung my eyes wide open and my jaw dropped. His erection was hard pressed against his jeans, pumping like my own heartbeat. I frowned at the many raised bumps along the swelling length. Piercings? I gulped.

He tapped at the screen for the bath, and the water lulled. Then he nudged his head, and I followed his order, climbing into the bath. The heat of the water soaked into my aching body, like a sponge. Heaven. And as though he just couldn't stray from touching me, the shadow man"s hand dropped into the water and trailed up the arc of my breast. I rose to meet his touch with a breathy moan and dipped my head over the edge of the bath.

"I want you clean. Understood?" he grated out.

I nodded… I think, and his hand moved away. I panted in his absence, taking a moment to gather myself again and closing my eyes, but when I opened them, he was gone. What the fuck? What the fuck was with these people randomly walking out while I was in the bath?

All I could find was a foam sponge in a bowl with bars of soap on the bench, not ideal but it was all I could find to soak up my period blood without snooping more than I should. I took the little sponge and quickly gave it a rinse under the tap before stowing the thing up in my pussy. It was no tampon, but it was better than being dirty. I had just enjoyed a decent soak in the tub. His tub. I took advantage of being out of my cage.

And now standing naked in front of the mirror, drying my hair with the dryer I found in the drawer. He owned a dryer so he couldn"t be bald. I took a good look at my weathered body. Despite my refreshing, cleansing soak, I truly was a walking wreck. Still, who knew a murderer would have so many hygiene products? And expensive ones at that. He was a sucker for quality. I couldn't help but dote on him for it.

He obviously looked after himself in that aspect. Then again, he'd probably spend hours in here getting the paint off before reapplying it again. There were moisturisers, aftershaves, his cologne, cleansers, masks, and all kinds of skincare. Some of them specifically to help with scarring. My mind trailed off, my heart sank in theory. Wondering how he got the scars that he was riddled in.

He still hadn't returned. I want you clean, pfft. Yes, boss. Gah! Get out of my head. I sighed at my reflection. My hair was so frail, but at least it was clean. And my skin was deathly pale. I needed food, stat, or my death was going to meet me before the shadow man had the chance to take me out himself. I ran my fingers over the traces of nicks and faint bruises that covered my skin from running in the forest, then the burn wound at my chest, and whatever else in between then and now.

I hated who looked back at me. Empty, void of everything that had once made me… me. I scribbled on the fogged-up mirror, for no reason other than because I felt like it. Giving me a confidence boost and words of encouragement to make it through another day in hell. ‘You'll be ok.' I finished the doodlewith a smiley face underneath.

Without warning, a tear slipped from my eye as I grieved my old self in the mirror, all traces of her long gone. I slapped my cheek, hopefully to knock some sense back into myself. With a huff, I stopped crying and spritzed myself with his cologne. And right next to it was his toothbrush. I ought to brush my teeth, they felt gross. His masculine earthy scent now soaked into my core. It was… nice.

It didn't take long for the intoxicating smell to make my downstairs area throb for him. Seeing as I now had no clothes, I opted for the towel, I wasn"t going to spend my days in tiny prison cells naked. I gave my teeth a quick clean, not giving a single fuck that I used his toothbrush, and walked out back into the bedroom. The fucker left me in here alone and aching in more ways than one. So that was his own problem.

I didn't touch myself in the bath, as much as I wanted to, I couldn't. It was a sin. All of it was, but something in my core wanted him to do it. I wanted him to be the first person to give me my orgasm. As deranged as that sounded, I couldn't fight myself on it. I brushed my intrusive sexually deprived thoughts aside.

I craned my neck around the room, seeing the shadow man wasn't there. But there was a freshly cooked meal on his bed. I groaned from the smell of the piping hot meal as it ripped through my nose. My stomach screamed at me, and my mouth salivated. I couldn't hold myself back, I dived straight for the bed, gulping the freshly squeezed orange juice before tucking into the meal. Crunchy roasted potato chunks, beef bites, lamb chops, gravy, a buttered bread roll, and an assortment of fruits and ice cream.

Barely breathing between each swallow, I was no pet. I was a wild, untamed beast. A swine. God, I'd need a shower to wash off the mess I've made. Ah,crap. Food was everywhere. All over my face, breasts, and the bed. I gasped, twisting my neck left and right to find the damn towel. Shit. It was sitting on the floor in a heap halfway between the bathroom and the bed. I leapt off the bed to grab it when the elevator door suddenly opened.

I gulped hard at the bread roll I had swirling in my mouth, hiding the evidence of what I had in my hand behind my back. Yeah, like that"s going to work.

The shadow man filled the void. No cape on. Just his black ripped jeans, and the mask.

That fucking mask. I was in so much trouble.