Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

Sarah

I brush my teeth before bed, feeling more myself today than I did yesterday. I forced myself to take the day off after Maxim, of all people, made me take time to myself. His erection has not been forgotten, but I’ve been too tired to acknowledge it further.

Besides, he seems like a guy who would get off on your anguish, and I was really struggling by then. Maybe I’ll say something about it next week. What the hell would I even say, though?

Hey, Maxim. I noticed you had an erection last week.

Gag. I would rather pretend I didn’t see it at all.

I turn off the light in the bathroom, climb into my welcoming bed, and sink beneath the down comforter. I’ve spent most of the day like this, but I think that’s exactly what I needed. I sure as shit wasn’t going for another run, that’s for sure.

As my head hits the pillow, I can’t stop thinking about that exact thing, though. That run. What it turned into. My hands begin to shake as I relive the memory, and I interlace my fingers over my belly to control the tremble. It’s been on my mind a lot, playing on repeat.

The terrifying mask.

The way he touched me.

The way my body responded to him.

Jesus, that’s what I keep focusing on the most. If I was so scared, if I truly didn’t want it, how did I come?

You know better, I argue with myself.

If anyone should know that victims’ bodies betray themselves all the time, it’s me. It’s a completely normal phenomenon, and I’ve explained that to clients more times than I can count. It’s not my fault I went for a run. It’s not my fault I was attacked. I keep chanting that on repeat in my mind.

I keep saying it until I fall asleep.

A soft warmth hovers between my legs. A curtain of heat drapes me, over and over. I blink awake, wrapped up in a tired haze. I can’t orient myself in this darkness, and I feel like I’m stuck in a dream. I try to roll over, but I’m locked in from the waist down.

Yeah, it’s gotta be some kind of dream. Half-body sleep paralysis coupled with lucid dreaming or some shit.

Instead of floating and feeling weightless, I’m weighed down and stuck to my mattress. I make a mental note to look up the meaning of this kind of dream. It probably means that my life is a fucking mess.

That warmth draws my attention again. A soft moan rises into my throat and rolls over my lips. I reach down to feel the source of the warmth my brain has conjured up in this dream, and my fingertips meet with slack plastic. The scent of latex wafts from beneath the blankets, bringing me back to the woods.

I’m not dreaming, I’m having a fucking nightmare.

“Wh-what?” I whisper, trying to sit up.

Hands hook my hips and keep me in place. “Shh, it’s just a bad dream,” he growls. “Now let me make it better.”

That warmth is back on me, but I can’t see him. I can’t even see my fucking hand in front of my face. He’s a demon lurking in the darkness and hanging on to me. But then I realize what’s causing the warm pleasure between my legs.

It’s his mouth, and he’s eating me out. No...he’s devouring me.

Now I know I’m not dreaming anymore. There’s a real psychopath between my legs. But why is my brain telling me to just lie there and pretend there’s not a criminal, the criminal, between my legs again? I’m a slut for the rising pleasure radiating from my crotch, driving into my spine, and twisting like a snake coiling in my gut.

“Please,” I beg, my mouth wanting to scream for him to stop but my brain begging me to let him continue.

My body misses his tongue the moment it leaves me. “Please what?”

Tell him to stop.

Tell him to keep fucking going.

I’m so conflicted. So confused.

He waits for me to speak, swirling his fingers around my opening before plunging them inside me. I gasp, and it pushes away every word until I have none to say to him. He pistons inside me, harder and faster, until there’s no way I can speak, even if I wanted to.

I scream out, my back leaving the mattress and curving toward the ceiling. He smirks against my skin before he spreads his lips and tongues me again. Now his fingers are inside me as his tongue works my clit. My hands grip the sheets in trembling fists.

“Oh god,” I pant.

My hips scoop forward and push my pussy against his mouth, begging for him to keep going.

If I reached over and turned on the light, I could see the half of his face his raised mask has left exposed. I could tell who this monster is. But instead of hitting that switch, I force him deeper into my pussy. I moan, throwing back my head as I’ve never felt something so good, so terribly wrong.

“Come for me,” he whispers, his mouth moving against me.

His fingers dig into my thighs as he eats me until I teeter on the ledge of an orgasm. His words, the hunger in every flick of his tongue, shove me over the side. I come, gripping his head as I raise my chest and ride through the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had.

As soon as I come down, rational thinking plows back into my mind. I take my hand away and go for the light switch. Somehow, he knows my move, and he’s on me before I reach it. He’s between my legs now, over me, with my hands pinned above my head.

“I thought you were going to be a good girl, but then you went for the light,” he hisses, and my wetness drips from his chin and onto my face. He’s so close that I can smell my arousal coating his skin. But I can’t see him. I can’t see anything.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“I’m leaving in the darkness. If you touch that light switch before you hear that front door close, I’ll come back next time you fall asleep, and I’ll kill you and wear your blood instead of your come. Do you understand?”

“I understand.”

And just like that, his warm body leaves and I’m alone with a cold heaviness. My bedroom door opens and closes. My front door opens and slams. When he’s gone, when I’m sure he’s gone, I turn on the bedroom light and look at the wet stain soaking the sheets. All that pleasure is from him waking me up with his tongue on me. From yet another assault that my body betrayed me over.

The encounter leaves me with two questions. Did I want to turn on the light to see a man I wanted more from? Or did I hope to find out who he was so I could call the goddamn police?

I don’t have an answer.