I’m exploring a particular theme.
She glanced over at the clock, blurry eyes making out the red numbers as they wavered. 3:30am, they read, the digital zero clicking to a one as she watched.
Sleep was being evasive, in spite of the fact that she was exhausted and had to be up in less than three hours. First day of work was looming and, as usual, anxiety and new surroundings put resting just out of reach.
As she rolled back over in a wasted effort to search for sleep, she wished terrible rest on all those other people who had the ability to fall asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillow. It was a minimum of forty-five minutes every night before she could convince her mind that all the world’s problems couldn’t be solved before bed. If not that, it was rehashing everything that had gone wrong – and right for that matter.
It was all made worse tonight by being in a new place. Every time she relaxed enough to slip into some kind of slumber, her mind would think about how flimsy the deadbolt was or that she didn’t really know her new neighbors, or that maybe she should sleep with clothes on until she achieved some level of mental comfort.
She was being ridiculous, but no amount of coaching seemed to lessen the underlying anxiety. It wasn’t like she wasn’t used to living alone, but something had her on edge.
Of course, when sleep finally decided to welcome her, it brought a wicked nightmare that held her tightly in its grip.
Something jolted her awake what felt like hours later, but a glance at the clock showed only forty-five minutes had passed. She lay still for a moment, trying to shake the terrifying dream as the sweat dried on her skin. A slight tremor racked her body, the blanket draped across her hips doing nothing to stave off the cool air.
She shook off the feeling of weirdness, making to rise from the bed to get a glass of water. A rattle beside her bed had her freezing as she tossed her leg over the side. After a beat of nothing, she finished her progress, making for the closed door even as her heart raced. She needed to get a grip.
As her hand grasped the knob, an arm slid around her waist and a rough palm covered her mouth. The shock of it held her immobile long enough for her to be pulled back against a clothed body. The jolt of her bare skin connecting with the stranger sent her into full panic mode. She flailed, scratched, and kicked even as he walked her backwards to her bed.
She managed to make some contact with his soft parts, which only earned her a low chuckle in her ear. His amusement sent a surge of fear through her, turning her struggles wild. He didn’t loosen his grip, simply settling her on his lap the moment he came to her bad.
“I like the ones with fight,” he whispered, the hand around her waist stroking her side lovingly.
She heaved in air behind his hand, staring out into the darkness of her room. How was she going to get out of this? She pushed at the arm pining her to his body with everything she had to no avail.
“I also like the ones that come already unwrapped for me.” The hand dropped to her thigh and she froze.
In the low light filtering through the window, she watched as he draped first one leg then the other over the outside of his denim clad thighs. She could see her nakedness in stark clarity. The curly ruffs of hair at the juncture of her thighs and the way her lower lips parted. His hand settled back on her thigh, stroking just below the point where hip and thigh came together.
She made to close her legs and his gentle stroking hand dug into her soft skin painfully.
“Now, don’t go and do that. I can’t see you if you do that.”
He opened his legs further, splaying hers uncomfortably wide. Instead of touching her, his fingertips drifted past that point, tracing the skin of her stomach in circles. Goosebumps popped up along the path as calloused fingers moved along.
She couldn’t figure out his game. It was all a tease that made her feel strung out. He wasn’t hurting her, but she wanted him to do whatever he’s come to do so she could piece herself back together if necessary.
His fingers traced around her areole until her nipple furled tight in response. He pinched it lightly before moving to its twin. She jumped when he slapped the other lightly, the sting of it making her gasp.
He pressed his cheek to hers, chafing her skin before kissing behind her ear. “I promised myself I’d wait, but I wanted to touch you. I needed to smell your skin before I came to you again.”
She watched as he lowered his hand, so slowly as though he wanted her to watch, to pet her curls. She held her breath, dread and sick anticipation squeezing her chest in a vise. That first touch to her clit electrified her, her breath streaming out hot against the hand still pressed to her mouth. The second gentle swirl sent a heat through her. The third press of his fingers made her shudder.
“Just a little taste before I take you.” He tapped harder and she squirmed, noting the hardened length of him against her bottom.
She shuddered again, shaking her head.
“Ssh,” he breathed in her ear. “Not tonight. Tonight is just for you.”
Two fingers swirled around her nub before dipping between her parted lips. She mumbled a no, but he plunged deep with no regard for her protests. He played until her body joined the party, and murmured softly in her ear when squelching noises filled the room. It started in her belly, coiling tighter and tighter until…
She arched in his grasp, her cries muffled by his hand. He kissed her cheek as she trembled in his arms.
When she lay limp against him, he rose from his seated position. With quick movements, he laid her face down on bed. Fatigue wrapped around her like a tight blanket and she just couldn’t conjure the energy to look at his face.
She felt his breath on her cheek and closed her eyes.
“Next time is for me.”
She barely heard his soft footfalls on the carpet, choosing to remain still. When silence surrounded her, she turned her head to glance at the clock.
4:55 glowed back at her. Her heart gave a hard thud as she watched the five flip to six.
I liked this 🙂
Is there going o be some more ?
Possibly. I’d have to think about how I’d arch it. Probably give his POV
This story is outstanding and I vote YES for a continuation, Cara. I think I know what you are going for, maybe not, but this is some strong writing. ‘Chilling’ would be an understatement to describe this guy. When he said “I also like the ones that come already unwrapped for me.” I knew this was a man used to success and a complete disregard for others. I think the key to this story, and where you are going with this theme, is his line “Next time is for me.”
The next will most likely from his POV. I think in my mind, he’s extremely complex. More than a psychopath who rapes women. He’s something else. I’ll be curious to see what happens when I try his side.
I was thinking that same thing, and it will be interesting to see, as I think she is as complex as he. I could see a back and forth and you may have found your book. I enjoyed this story and think it a cut above the ordinary. I would love to reblog.
Feel free to reblog if you’d like
Reblogged this on Life of Elliott… and all that jizz and commented:
I’ve been following Cara’s writings for years, and of course her delectable photos, and thought this story was something special. It will be interpreting to see where she goes from here. I thought you might like to read it.
Pingback: What I’ve managed (not) to do | Cara Thereon
Pingback: Untitled 3 | Cara Thereon
Pingback: Untitled: Light | Cara Thereon