by Lana Hartley
I could run to the other end of this house and his eyes would still be on me. I forget how to breathe and wish I could look away, but I don’t. “You didn’t answer the question,” I gasp out finally.
“Why aren’t you sad your classmates are dead?” Jeremy stands up.
I don’t answer and just look up at him, walking towards me.
“Do you want to go back to your parents?” He stands right in front of me.
I stand up, even though he towers over me, and keep looking in his eyes. “Is this my home now?”
Jeremy’s hands close over my upper arms and he squeezes me for a second before he lets his hands drop. “You should get dressed for dinner. I need to start cooking.”
I nod and turn from the couch. As I start to walk away, Jeremy grabs my hand, closing his over mine. “I would never harm you, Carrie.” He brings my hand to his mouth and presses a small kiss there.
I’ve lost my mind. A surge of arousal bolts through me when his lips graze over my skin. Despite everything, I am so incredibly stirred in this moment that I place my hand back on his chest, where I touched him after he killed all those students. “I’m not afraid of you. I’m afraid of who I am when I’m with you.” I turn quickly and walk up the stairs, unable to look at him.
Carrie
I walk slowly down the steps, the black satin of my dress brushing against my thighs. I wonder if he’ll like me in this dress. Should I have put my hair up? Why do I care? He’s a killer. I should be plotting my escape, but what would I be escaping to? My parents don’t love me. I’ve always known that. I’m just a doll for my mother to dress up and show off, and a success accessory to my father. I’m not a person to them. They don’t care about what I like or what I feel. Jeremy’s a stranger, yet he seems to know more about me than the people who should love me most. Maybe my parents are looking for me, but I’d be lying if I said I wanted to be found.
I reach the bottom of the stairs and stand for minute, uncertain. I know that if I turn left I’ll be back in the sitting room, and see I light flickering down the hall to the right. The door is right in front of me. I wonder if it’s unlocked. Just a few steps and I could find out.
“Carrie.”
I turn my head at the sound of Jeremy’s voice, dark and smooth as velvet. He’s walking toward me, his black suit perfectly accentuating the graceful lines of his lean, muscular body. I feel my pulse quicken at the sight of him. I could say it’s because of fear, but that wouldn’t be entirely true. I’m still as attracted to Jeremy now as I was the first moment I saw him. Of course I’m afraid, but something tells me that if Jeremy wanted to kill me, I never would have left the beach. They would have found me lifeless, lying in the sand with the others. The realization is strangely comforting.
“I wasn’t sure which way to go,” I say.
Jeremy steps forward and takes my hand. and suddenly I feel a little warmer. “Come. This way,” he says, “I often forget how confusing this house can be to newcomers.”
“Did you grow up here?” I ask as I follow him down the hall, past the portraits of what I assume are long dead relatives. I wonder briefly if they all died of natural causes.
“Yes. Well, summers and holidays. The rest of the time I was away at school.”
“I wish I’d been sent away.” The words slip out before I can catch myself.
Jeremy turns and looks at me. “You don’t enjoy your parents’ company, I take it?”
It sounds more like a statement than a question. “I… I love my parents,” I say, suddenly defensive, “everyone does.”
“You don’t strike me as someone who does what everyone does.”
I’m saved from having to respond by our arrival the dining room. The room is candlelit, dark and elegant, a perfect setting. He steps up to the long mahogany table and pulls out my chair. I settle myself on the blood-red velvet seat. I wonder if red is Jeremy’s favorite color. I feel a bit like a princess, and I guess that would make Jeremy my dark prince.
I wait for Jeremy to seat himself before lifting the silver cloche in front of me. I’m greeted by the beautifully presented quail with raspberry sauce. I gasp. “It’s too lovely to eat.”
“Thank you,” Jeremy says chuckling, “but I hope you don’t truly feel that way. I’m starving, and I imagine you are too.”
Jeremy’s right. I haven’t eaten today and the food smells incredible. I take a bite, and it’s all I can do to keep from sighing with delight as my mouth is filled with a symphony of flavor.
“Are you a chef?”
Jeremy chuckles low in his throat. “No. Cooking is a hobby, but as with all my passions, I strive for excellence.”
My heart skips a beat as I wonder what Jeremy’s other hobbies might be.
“Wine? I know you’re not of age, but this is an excellent vintage. It can be our little secret.” He pours me glass.
“So, what do you do?” I ask, taking a sip of wine. It sings on my tongue and somehow, my next bite of food taste even better.
“Whatever I like,” Jeremy replies, fixing me in place with a stare that can only be described as lascivious. It makes me feel naked. I can feel my nipples tighten and press against the satin of my dress. Heat rushes to my face.
“What do you do, Carrie?”
“Mostly what I’m told to do.” I’m not proud of my answer, but it’s true.
“But not always. You didn’t do what Laurel told you at the bar.”
“I suppose it depends on who’s telling me.”
After we’ve finished eating, Jeremy takes my plate away, as well as his, and comes back with the most decadent dark chocolate torte I’ve ever seen. He places it in front of me, returning to his seat and his eyes never leaving me. I take my first bite and my eyes slip closed, savoring the bittersweet richness. When I open my eyes, Jeremy is staring at me.
“I see you appreciate sensual pleasures.”
I look at him, confused. “I’ve never thought of eating as particularly sensual.” I know taste is a sense, but then again, I’ve never eaten anything this wonderful before. Despite my parents’ money, their food choices were pretty bland.
“Oh, but Carrie, my dear, eating is incredibly sensual. I bet you felt that first taste all the way down to your toes.”
“I did.” I say, and it feels like I’m confessing something.
“See? Eating is a delight for your entire body.” Jeremy wears a smile that can’t be described any way other than wicked. “Your torte is beautifully presented and the taste, lovely and bittersweet, thrilling, but more than that, I love the way it feels against your tongue as you devour it.”
I swallow. My fork clinks against my plate as it slips from my fingers. The temperature in the room feels as if it’s gone up a hundred degrees. The way Jeremy is looking at me has every nerve in my body at attention. I look at him and try to find my voice. “You didn’t eat dessert,” I say, and I sound breathless.
“No, you’re right. I haven’t had dessert yet, and I do think I’m ready for it.” Jeremy gets up and walks around to my side of the table.
He turns my chair around so that I’m facing him, and kneels in front of me. It’s such a graceful movement I’m barely aware of it until I feel his hands on my knees, spreading them apart.
“May I?” he asks, looking at me with those green eyes darkened by lust.
“Yes.” I say breathlessly.
Carrie
My “yes” hangs in the air, filling up the room, then dissipating in an instant. Why should I have choices here? I didn’t have choices at home. The aching, throbbing need between my legs isn’t giving me a choice, so why should he? My yes is everything and nothing. I wonder if it matters at all. You’re a prisoner of your own device, a voice whispers in my head. I try shut it out. I didn’t come here willingly. You didn’t say no, the voice reminds me, you didn’t protest and you haven’t even tried to run away. Jeremy’s asking for permission when could do anything to me. You want him to do everything to you. The
voice inside my head is right, but I still hate it. Jeremy’s hands rest against my knees, warm. I look down at him.
“What would happen if I say no?” The question pushes its way out of my mouth before I can control it, stop it, push it back behind my teeth keep it where it belongs. Asking questions of Jeremy will never lead anywhere good.
His hands tighten almost imperceptibly on my knees. Almost. Jeremy tilts his head. Those dazzling green eyes are darker with lust. Not bright like emeralds but dark like the green of a lush forbidden forest. If this were a fairy tale, the princess would be frightened, would fear to live this next moment I’m trembling, but it’s not from fear. Well, not only from fear.
He leans back and regards me quietly for a moment. I can feel my heart hammering in my chest, speeding up as his silence fills room heavy like molasses. His eyes that hold me down.
“What do think would happen?” Jeremy asks, removing his hands from my knees.
I immediately miss his touch. I want the warm solid weight of his hands on me again. Without those hands to anchor me, I feel lost and adrift on a sea of longing.
“Nothing?”
“Yes, my darling, Carrie. Nothing.”
He leans back, the warmth of his body further from me, and he looks away for a moment. I lean forward, no longer held captive by his gaze. In my moment of freedom I seek to be recaptured. More silence in which I ache and struggle for breath, waiting for his next words as if they’re life and death to me. Maybe they are.
When Jeremy finally speaks again, his voice is serious as death. “Carrie, you must understand. There are certain things,” he pauses, “there are certain things I even I won’t do. I would never hurt you and I would never take from you what isn’t given to me with absolute willingness.”
“But you could?” I say. Because he could have taken what he wants a hundred times over by now; because he’s bigger and stronger; because I couldn’t stop him if I wanted to; because I don’t want to stop him; because I’m wet and I can feel the tremble in my things and the ache in my cunt; because I think if he doesn’t do something to me I’ll die; because it’s the truth and Jeremy said honesty was important.
He leans forward and I don’t lean back. I want to be close to him. I’m feel like I’ll go mad waiting for his touch. His hands return this time, landing on my thighs, and it’s such a sweet relief. I’ve kept my thighs spread just the way he wanted them. I feel the heat of his hands though the thin silk of my dress. He gives a wicked grin, one corner of his mouth turning up. It makes my stomach flip and heart skip a beat. That grin sparks a fire in me because it’s a dirty promise that I want him to keep.
“I could.” he says, the dark timbre of his voice making me shiver as his hands move, sliding my dress up my legs, careful to keep the fabric under his hands. He’s tormenting me, he’s wicked and I’ve never wanted anyone so much. My dress is pushed up around my hips and his hands rest there.
“I could,” he repeats, licking his lips. I follow the movement of his tongue with my eyes, and my pussy clenches with need. “I could do so many things to you, sweet Carrie. Things that would make you shiver with delight. Scream with ecstasy.” His eyes drop down between my open thighs, were my tiny lace thong is clinging to my soaked lips. “Things that would leave you dripping with anticipation at my next touch. But I won’t do any of those things unless you allow me.”
I’ve never felt so weak and so powerful all at once. Jeremy could break me so easily, but he says he won’t and I believe him. Am I crazy? I don’t know. I can’t think. I can barely breathe because his words have set fire to mind, burning up every thought that isn’t yes please touch me. He leans his cheek against my bare thigh, his stubble scratching against the sensitive skin there, and heightening my arousal.
“So,” he says, “I’ll ask you again. May I?”
“Yes,” I say, nodding my head so rapidly it must appear comical, but Jeremy doesn’t laugh. He would never laugh at me, not like… I push the thought of my classmates away. I can’t think about them now. They don’t matter. They never mattered. And Jeremy is so close to me, now. If I could just move another inch, his mouth would be right where I need it, but his grip on my hips has tightened and I find I can’t move at all.
I know he must be able to smell me. He’s so close and the scent of my lust is filling up the room. My scent is overwhelming the scent of fruits and chocolates and wine, the way desire is overwhelming me. Jeremy inhales deeply, like the smell of my arousal is aroma of a rose.
“I love the scent of you. So ready, just on the verge,” he says. “You smell of desire, and I know that to taste you will be to taste divinity.”
And just like that, just with those words, my pulse is pounding. He hasn’t even touched and I feel on the edge and strung out, like an addict in need of fix. My chest heaves and the movement causes my nipples, diamond hard with arousal to brush against the fabric of my dress. I bite down on my lip, hard. The pain gives me something to focus on, a momentary grasp of control on the wild desire beating in my chest like a caged bird trying to escape.
Jeremy breathes out a warm exhale against the damp scrap of lace that barely covers my pussy. Without thinking I spread my legs wider. I know he can see every part of me, the lace of my thong has slid between my outer lips. He breathes against me again. He’s teasing me, and it’s the sweetest torment I’ve ever known.
I know Jeremy is dangerous. I know he could kill me, break like a porcelain doll and toss me away and no one would care. But I know he doesn’t want to do that. If he did, I’d be dead. No, Jeremy wants to taste me, savor me, consume me, and devour me. Somehow, that’s more frightening than if he wanted to hurt to me. It’s not that I want to hurt, but…it’s just that I’ve never been desired, loved. Does he love me? Is that what this is? Another inhale against me steals the thoughts from my mind and the breath from my lungs.
“Has anyone ever—”
“No. Nobody. Only me.” I say before he finishes the question.
“A virgin in every sense of the word, then. Touching yourself alone in your room.”
“Not just my room,” I say, my voice trembling with lust and desire. I don’t know how I’m going to stand another moment of him not touching me where I want it most. My legs are shaking and he strokes a hand down my trembling thigh. It’s a gesture meant to soothe me, but it only makes me tremble more. He raises and eyebrow, waiting for me to say more.
“In the car.”
“The car?”
His words ghost across my center and I squirm in his grip.
“Only once. The night I met, you. I couldn’t wait.”
“In the back of your car. Your pretty pink dress in a mess.”
“Yes,” I say. I can barely get the words out. Despite my nerves about everything that’s about to happen, admitting my desire to its source makes me feel like I’m caught in trap I don’t understand. “Wrapped in your… in your coat… thinking about you… about you touching me.”
“Oh, my sweet, sweet Carrie.” He looks at me like I’m something precious. “I won’t torment you anymore. After all, I’m not a cruel man.” He chuckles low in his throat. It sends a fresh rush of desire through me, and I know my panties will be soaked when he reaches them.
His thumbs brush against the edge of my thong. One of them strokes against my center, slow and deliberate. I whimper. His fingers press the lace into my wet cunt. My thighs are visibly trembling as he drops kisses on them. His hands grip me tighter and I think about what else those hands can do, and it thrills me. His fingertip brushes against my clit, through the damp fabric of my panties. I jump as a jolt of pleasure shoots through me. Touching myself never felt like this.
He hooks his thumbs in the waist of my panties, slowly peeling them away from my slick folds. I bring my legs together and lift my ass. Jeremy’s slides my panties down and they leave a damp trail along the inside of my leg. I’m so wet my thighs are slick with my juices and I know when I stand up there will be a damp spot o
n the red velvet, evidence of my body’s desire for something dark and dangerous.
Everything seems to move in slow motion as Jeremy strokes a hand up my right calf. cradling it delicately in his palm, before lifting it up to his shoulder. He places my other leg across the padded arm of the chair. I’m completely spread open before him. Jeremy can see every part of me.
I want his touch more than I want to breathe. He has to know what he’s doing to me, how his breath on my skin is driving me crazy, making me shake with raw desire. He has to hear my heart thundering in my chest. I bite my lip, wondering what he’ll think, wondering how I compare to the other woman who’ve been in his bed. Did they all want him as badly as I do? He has to know how much I’m suffering.
“Beautiful. Like a flower about to blossom,” he whispers, his mouth now hovering over my throbbing pussy. Just as I think I’ll go insane, driven mad by lust Jeremy surges forward, finally tasting me.
I let out a whimper as Jeremy glides his tongue through my slick folds. His tongue drags up and down my lips before finally flicking over my clit. The first touch of his tongue against my swollen, aching clit is like a jolt from a live wire. It’s an electric shock of pleasure I feel though my entire body. I can’t hold back the loud moan that slips from my mouth. Jeremy’s mouth feels incredible on my wet, sensitive pussy.
His tongue swirls around my clit, making my pulse pound and my blood rush. My hips tilt up and I press my cunt against his mouth, seeking more pleasure, seeking more of him. The sounds of my breathless pleasure echoes off the walls, and I’d be embarrassed by how much I need him if I weren’t being swept away on a tide of ecstasy. My hands tangle in Jeremy’s thick dark hair as his tongue flattens against me, and a fresh wave of pleasure washes over me. Jeremy’s tongue teases my entrance, leaving me writhing with a mix of passion and frustration. I ache for release, yet I want this pleasure to last forever.
“Jeremy.” I breathe his name on every exhale like it’s the only word I know. It falls from my lips over and over again like a never-ending wish.