Through Her Eyes

by Amber Morgan

  He pumped in and out of her with slow, smooth strokes, but quickly building back to a faster pace. She could see on his face that his control was slipping and the knowledge spurred her on too. She rocked with him, pushing her hips up to meet his thrusts, drawing his cock deeper inside her. She sank her nails into his shoulders, urging him on. Everything now was a stimulant, pushing her closer and closer to orgasm. The scent of sweat and musk, the smack of flesh on flesh...it was overwhelming her. When Dom gasped her name, Keira's entire body convulsed with pleasure, her climax hitting her like a hot wave. She cried out and her release seemed to trigger his as he gave one last thrust, hard enough it was almost painful.

  He slumped over her, burying his head in the curve of her neck and peppering her throat with kisses. "Keira, Keira, fuck me..."

  She clasped her arms and legs around him, laughing and panting for air. "Again? Already?" she teased.

  He lifted his head, gave one last, soft pump of his hips, and kissed her lips gently. "Give me five minutes."

  Chapter Six

  They showered together afterwards, Dom taking care to soap every inch of her, then drying her off with an intense attention that Keira found as arousing as anything else he'd done to her. He stood behind her, his cock hard and ready against her ass as he dried her hair. They went back to the bedroom with every intention of getting filthy all over again.

  Before they could do more than fall on the bed, however, Dom's phone started ringing. He swore, rubbing his forehead. "What timing."

  "Can't you ignore it?" she asked.

  He shook his head. "That's my work phone. Something's happened."

  Fear shot through her. She'd managed to forget the Slasher in Dom's arms, but now he rushed to the front of her mind again. "Another murder?" Her voice trembled.

  "I don't know, love." He kissed her and went to answer. Keira sat on the bed, hugging her knees and feeling oddly vulnerable. When he returned, his face was black as thunder. She jumped up and went to him. He folded his arms around her, holding her tightly. "I have to go."

  "It's him, isn't it?"

  "We don't know. It might be something, it might be nothing. But I have to follow it up." He squeezed her and kissed her hair. "You'll be alright, yeah? I won't be long."

  What could she say? She couldn't stop him, didn't have the right to say, "No, stay with me." She pasted on a smile. "I'll be fine. Go and do your job."

  Dom didn't look happy as he left, but he said nothing. Keira made sure the front and back doors were locked after he was gone. Then, unsure of what else to do, she went to bed to wait for Dom to come back.

  ****

  She thought she'd struggle to sleep, that fear of another OBE, another murder would keep her awake. But tucked up in Dom's bed, with the smell of him rich on the pillows, she fell asleep just as easily as she had on his sofa. She didn't dream.

  She couldn't say what woke her. A noise, a smell, some instinct...something.

  In the heavy darkness of Dom’s bedroom, Keira listened to her own breathing echo in her ears – and someone else’s.

  A fine, electric thread of terror wove through her. The same instinct that jerked her awake urged her now to flee, triggered some deep, primitive part of her. But she didn’t dare move, didn’t dare give herself away. She lay still, holding her breath, listening to the soft, steady breathing of the other person in the room. He sounded close – by the window? By the wardrobe? She’d have to raise her head to check and she couldn’t.

  Now would be a great time to be able to escape her body.

  “I know you’re awake."

  The voice was low, rough, sending hot flashes through Keira. She’d never heard his voice – he’d never said a word when he was attacking her six years ago, but with the same intuition that had taken her to his house this morning, she knew, knew, it was him. The Shoreditch Slasher.

  “I always knew I’d find you again. I knew you were watching me.”

  Before she could react, he was on her, pinning her to the bed with his weight. She tried to cry out, but his hand gripped her throat, choking the air from her. He forced her onto her back, knees on either side of her hips to keep her in place, and loomed over her. It was a grim parody of the way Dom had held her earlier and the thought made her want to vomit. He wore the balaclava she remembered so well, hiding his face completely, but she knew him, would always know him, until her dying breath.

  “Did you like it? Did it get you off, seeing what I did?” he asked her, voice heavy with lust and menace. “Did you miss me, Keira Swanson?”

  She tried to thrash, to kick out, but her vision was already fading in and out, red sparks flashing before her eyes as he throttled her. Panic swamped her. If she could scream...if she could just fight back...even for a second...but there was nobody to hear.

  She knew what he’d do, remembered every second of his first attack on her, saw every second of his attacks on all the others. He’d choke her until she was nearly unconscious, then reach for the blade. Desperation filled her and she clawed at his face, her nails snagging in his mask.

  He growled and swiped at her with his free hand, but the motion unbalanced him enough for Keira to twist her hips, wobble him a little. He loosened his hold on her throat and she sucked in a deep, beautiful breath before lashing out again. She scraped her nails across his face, catching the exposed skin around his eyes. He grunted, drove his fist into her ribs. Pain cracked through her and she managed to cry out before he slapped her and grabbed her throat again. She clasped his thick forearm, trying to sink her nails in or pry him off, but she was already weak, and he was so damn strong. A sick swirl of nightmare memories clouded her vision.

  As her sight faded, so did her panic, an eerie sense of calm replacing it. She felt light, drifty, and loose. She was leaving her body, she realized, and it was a relief. Her earlier worries about being caught in limbo were distant now, nothing compared to the reality of dying. Surely this was better, more peaceful?

  A slam and a howl of pain pulled her back into her body hard and fast. Dizziness and sickness gripped her as the Slasher slumped down on her, smothering her. But he released her throat, and Keira sobbed and gasped as she fought to push his dead weight off her. Something wet and warm flowed over her hands as she pushed at him. It dawned on her that it was blood.

  “Keira!” Dom’s voice chased away some of her dizziness, giving her something to cling to. The Slasher’s crushing weight lifted as Dom heaved him aside, freeing her. She lay gasping for air on the bed, vision still sparking, throat tight and raw. Part of her still wanted to drift away, to deny what was happening – had almost happened. But then Dom was beside her, gun in one hand, easing her upright with the other. “It’s alright, love, it’s alright. You’re alright. We got him. We got the bastard.”

  She slumped against him, staring at the silhouette of the Slasher sprawled on the carpet. Was he dead? She felt like her hands were drenched in blood, but his chest moved, she was sure of it. She buried her face in Dom’s shirt, curling up as close to him as she could. He held her tight for a few minutes, then released her carefully. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

  She shook her head, massaged her throat. “Just need a drink,” she croaked. And to be away from the figure on the floor. Far, far away.

  ****

  Twenty minutes later, Dom’s house was swarming with police officers. Keira sat in the kitchen, nursing a cup of warm milk – no honey, Dom didn’t have any – giving a statement to an officer who looked far too young to be there. Dom was directing traffic in the bedroom. She missed his reassuring presence acutely, but couldn’t allow herself to focus on that too much. She was just grateful he'd come home in time. A few minutes later...

  She couldn't let herself focus on that either.

  She gave her statement the same way she'd told Dylan about the first attack just two days ago. Keep it simple, keep it quick. There wasn't much to tell in any case; it all happened so fast, ended so suddenly...

  "A
nd you say this is the same man who attacked you six years ago?" the officer asked, scribbling in his pad. "The Shoreditch Slasher?"

  She shuddered at his casual use of the nickname. "I'm positive," she said. "Absolutely no doubt."

  He smiled at her, patting her hand. "You must be the luckiest woman in London."

  She smiled back. She supposed she should feel lucky. Right now she just felt exhausted.

  ****

  The next morning Keira and Dom stood at King's Cross station, waiting for her train to arrive. She gripped his hand so hard she was sure it had to be hurting him, but he didn't complain. She wanted to cling to him forever.

  "We'll be in touch," Dom said. "If we nail the bastard, you'll be called to testify."

  "I'll be happy to. I want to see him locked away forever." She sighed. "I want it to just be over. Everything, I mean."

  "I know." He took her hand, squeezed hard. "Hopefully the OBEs will stop now."

  She smiled. "I was never scared of the OBEs, just where they took me. It might be nice to have some control over them, visit some exotic locations. Paris, Milan..."

  "London?" Dom asked.

  "I'd prefer to come in person."

  "Keira." He took her in his arms, gazing down at her so seriously it made her heart race. "I don't want to be calling you professionally. I want..." He hesitated, seeming to stumble over his words. "You know what I want."

  She did. She wanted it too. And there seemed no reason not to have it anymore. She could start again in London, with him. Lose herself in his arms and find herself again. The idea filled her with a glow of happiness. She stood on tiptoe to kiss him, long and soft. He eased his hands down her back, sliding his fingers inside her jeans to stroke her bare skin. She shivered and leaned against him, wishing they were somewhere more private.

  "Stay," he whispered. "Stay with me. Let me protect you. From everything."

  "I'll come back," she said, drawing away reluctantly. His words were as warming as his touch. He would protect her, she knew that. Against anything and everything. With Dom she would always be safe.

  "You will. You'd better." His tone left her in no doubt that he'd come and find her if she wasn't.

  She smiled as her train pulled in. It was bittersweet to say goodbye, but she boarded the train feeling so much lighter than she had since...since she was first attacked. She took her seat and peered out the window, hoping to see Dom on the platform and wave him goodbye. She felt a pang of disappointment when she saw he'd already gone...

  ...Until he threw himself into the seat next to her and pulled her into his arms with a possessive growl. "No, fuck it. I'm not letting you go. Not for a second." He kissed her hard, stealing her breath. "Consider yourself in protective custody."

  She laughed, stroking his cheeks and loving the feeling of his stubble under her fingers. He was hers at last. How could she possibly argue with him?

  As the train pulled away, she settled into the circle of his arms, flushed with both excitement and contentment. It didn't matter where she went from here. With Dom at her side, she would always be heading home.

  The End

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