Chapter 11

C LARISSA

D arkness engulfs me as I open my eyes. I turn to the chair where Vance was sitting, but he’s gone. I snuggle my face into his pillow and breathe him in. Smiling, I remove the covers and tug at the warmth of the robe. The chill of the hardwood floor hits my feet as I stand. I’m in the home of my captor, but the fear coursing through my body a few hours ago has completely dissipated.

A piece of paper with a note written in black pen sits on top of the sweatpants and hoodie at the foot of the bed.

Little Bird,

Since you were a bad girl and made me rip off your dress, I thought you’d like something to wear. I’m going to enjoy peeling them off you at some point. Maybe with my teeth.

Yours, Vance

I can’t help but smile. For a guy who’s out of control, he’s also incredibly thoughtful. He’s a rose with too many thorns, gorgeous and captivating, but one wrong move, and he’ll make you bleed and not think twice about it.

As I roam the darkness searching for Vance, I see the dogs lying by the door as if waiting for him. For two vicious dogs, they’re pretty docile.

“Hey, boys,” I whisper.

They move out of the way as if permitting me to venture outside. I open the door. The chilly night air nips at my skin, reminding me I don’t have a coat. It doesn’t faze me. I’m not running this time.

A flicker of light appears from under the door of the shed. Inside, My Girl by The Temptations is blaring. Slowly, I open the door so as not to disturb him.

Vance is standing there, his bare chest exposed. The intricate tattoos on his back appear dangerous and alluring. A man doesn’t have the right to be so goddamn beautiful.

“You can come closer, Little Bird.” Vance’s voice creeps through the room like a caress against my skin.

I step closer; Vance is panting, and his body is coated in a sheen of sweat. My mouth waters at the thought of licking it off him. I place my hand on his shoulder. He sighs and drops his head.

Panic hits me in the chest. Vance doesn’t turn to look at me. He doesn’t make a smart-ass comeback or try to get me wet with his words and his voice.

My mouth is dry. I can barely swallow. I drop my hand and turn to leave, but a firm hand wraps around my wrist.

“Don’t go, Little Bird.”

Vance’s voice strained. The confident man is exposed, and I’m getting a glimpse of his vulnerable side. A side I’m sure he rarely, if ever, shows anyone.

“Are you all right?” I ask, not sure what else to say.

“Only when you’re near me.”

I glance down at his hand, holding my wrist tightly, but not so tight it hurts. It’s the kind of pressure that feels good. I’m not sure what it is about this man, but being with him is terrifying and exhilarating. My whole life, I’ve wanted someone to want me, care for me, protect, and cherish me. In a few days, this man has done all of those things.

I know he’s not a good person; one might even say he’s psychotic. Yet as I stand in front of him, lost in the depths of his blue eyes. The only thing that can bring him to his knees is me, and it makes me want him no matter the consequences. The truth is, he has nothing to worry about because he’s trapped me in his web. I can’t get out, even if I wanted to.

“I’m not going anywhere, Vance.”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I see it. Blood. At first, I think it’s from carving my name into his arm, but there’s too much blood. It’s the amount of blood you’d see in a horror movie after the murderer brutally stabs someone multiple times.

My eyes shift to his other hand, and I see the knife. A drop of blood lands on his face, followed by another.

Vance must notice the fear in my eyes because he drops my hand and hangs his head. “This is who I am, Little Bird. It’s all I know how to do.”

My eyes follow the drops above us, and that’s where I see him. Roy, dead with multiple slashes deeply embedded by a sharp object: the knife wielded by Vance’s hand.

Vance notices me looking at the knife and places it on the metal table beside him with the other torture devices. I’m not sure what they all are, but none look pleasant.

“What’s going on?” As soon as I ask the question, I know how dumb it sounds.

What’s going on is that Vance carved up Roy like a prime roast. A typical reaction to this is running, screaming, and praying a kind stranger picks you up on the side of the road before the psycho chops you up. Still, I discovered long ago that I wasn’t normal.

“He hurt you.” Vance shrugs as if killing random people for hurting me is normal. “He likes to beat on women. Someone should have put the dog down a while ago. Might have been still breathing had he not crossed me, but he made the mistake of touching what belongs to me.”

Vance steps toward me. The vulnerability in his eyes a moment ago is completely gone, replaced with conviction and rage. He rubs his thumb along my bottom lip, and the simple touch makes me wet. He leans in, whispering in my ear, “I told you. No one touches what’s mine. If you don’t want it to happen again, you better make sure no one touches you.”

“I should run,” I say, my eyes fluttering closed, my voice barely a whisper, my body incredibly responsive to his touch.

“But you won’t,” Vance says, pressing his body against mine. His cock nudges my stomach, sending heat spiraling through me. “Will you, Little Bird?”

His question comes out as a demanding growl, like he’s telling me who’s in charge.

“No.” I pant with so much need for this man that I might die from it.

Vance puts his arm around me. “Let’s go back to the cabin.”

We walk in silence, my only thoughts of him, of how safe I am with his arm wrapped around my shoulder, and how the only time I’ve ever felt loved is in the arms of a killer.

As we walk into the bedroom, Vance immediately removes his pants. I can’t help but stare at his sheer size. The man is an anaconda. Vance chuckles, leaning against the dresser, his tattooed arms crossed over his massive chest. The man is too good-looking.

“Like the view, Little Bird?”

I lick my lips, confirming that I do. I like the view very much, but my throat is too dry to utter a word. He has no inhibitions, not at all fazed by his dick on display as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“That pink blush on your face is fuckin’ sexy. I’d like to see more of it.”

My hands fly to my face as if I can somehow conceal my reaction to the smoldering expression on his face. Ice-blue eyes roam my body, and I feel naked despite the heavy clothing on my skin.

Vance pushes off the dresser, the smirk on his face set in place as he strides toward me. I close my eyes, bracing myself for his touch and the turmoil of craving it will release, but nothing happens. I squint at him.

“Are you expecting something, Little Bird?” He laughs, bringing his thumb to my bottom lip and rubbing it, not so gently.

He’s still a few feet away, not so close that the heat of his body affects me, but close enough that desire pools in my pussy with a need I’ve never known. I despise how my body turns into jelly in his hands. In all my twenty-five years, I’ve never been so affected by a man, and here I am, a simp for my captor.

“You’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you?”

Vance takes a step toward me, then another, each movement planned for my utter torture. His grin widens. He’s enjoying the reaction he’s getting from me. A game of cat and mouse, with the mouse desperate to have the cat’s hands on her. “Remember what I told you?”

I nod, recalling what he said to me in his office.

Little Bird, I don’t rape women. When we have sex, you’re gonna beg for my cock in every single one of your holes and thank me for it.

“Say it.”

“I want you to fuck me.”

He reaches up, his bloodstained fingers encircling my throat as he pins me against the wall with his massive body, his mouth crushing mine. His lips are hot, and they taste like danger mixed with need. My lips part, allowing his tongue to slip inside. The room spins with his potent scent: brutality, yearning, and intensity.

He pulls away, resting his forehead on mine. “There’s no turning back, Little Bird. If we do this now, I can’t be gentle. My control is thin most days, but right now, it’s obsolete. You got the monster, baby. The man has gone away. If you want to stop, tell me.”

“Please, don’t stop.”

Vance’s fingers slowly trail down my stomach and intomy jogging pants, brushing against my pussy lips. I press myself into his hand. He chuckles. “You’re soaked for me, Little Bird, my greedy whore.”

I want to tell him I am, to degrade me, to make me his in every way, but the words are stuck in my throat, too frightened to come out. Vance doesn’t need my words, or he doesn’t care about them. He can read my body like a book. I’ve never been with a lover who knew me so well. It’s like my body is a custom toy made for him.

He raises an eyebrow as his fingers move between my folds, “You’re such a good slut. Little Bird. Look how wet your dirty pussy is for me.”

He thrusts a finger inside me, driving in and out gently before adding another, and this time the thrusts are more intense, more urgent. He demands I feel him inside me. His thumb circles my clit, and my legs give out, but Vance holds me up with one arm. “Does that feel good, baby girl?”

My breathing is labored. I’m lost in the sensation of his fingers inside me. “Yes. Please don’t stop.”

At my pleas, he yanks his fingers out of me, leaving me a crumpled mess in his arms. I’m pissed, frustrated, and utterly out of control. “Why the hell did you stop?”

Vance takes his wet fingers and spreads my juice on my lips like a lip balm before he takes my mouth with his, his tongue slipping out to taste me. “You taste mighty fine, Little Bird.”

He offers the two fingers that were inside me a moment ago, and I open my mouth, accepting them greedily. I suck them like they’re the last things I’ll ever have in my mouth, licking and cleaning them properly.

Vance’s blue eyes are hooded, and a slow smile spreads across his lips. “Looks like you’re good at sucking, Little Bird. You think you can handle more?”

“I want you, all of you. The good and the bad. I can take it.”

His fingers sweep through my hair before he fists it and jerks. I’m transfixed by the expression in his eyes, heated, forceful, and full of danger. I’m a deer caught in the headlights, frozen by his stare, but I’m also powerful because the woman he desperately wants is me, and only me.

Vance’s nostrils flare, and a growl unleashes from his lips as if he knows the power I hold. It’s a challenge, and he’s accepting it. “Don’t be so assured, sweetheart. I’m gonna wreck you.”

His words are vile, and there’s no warmth in them, but his eyes soften as he gazes at me. I know I’m safe with him and always will be. He’s giving me exactly what I asked for, him without the mask, the real Vance.

“On your knees.”