by B. B. Hamel
I turn the corner and I watch as Mark hurries down the block. He pauses at an intersection, looks both ways along a one-way street, and then hurries along. I follow at a respectful distance, keeping an eye on him but not getting too close. Mark seems agitated for some reason, and I can’t figure out why.
He left his house about the time I took my position in the park and started walking fast. I had to hurry to keep up and almost lost him at one point, but found him standing in front of a newsstand buying a paper and a coffee, something he almost never does. Especially not in the evening.
He’s wearing slacks, dress shoes, and a large dark coat. I can’t tell what’s underneath it. I’m in my usual follow outfit, very non-descript and boring, which is what I want from it. He’s walking quickly away again and I have to pick up my pace to keep up.
I watch him toss his coffee away, and note that it seems like he didn’t drink a single sip of it. The paper he keeps tucked under one arm, which seems curious to me. He probably already read today’s paper, so why buy another one?
He crosses the street suddenly without a crosswalk and I have to hurry to follow him again, darting between cars. He slows down at an intersection then looks back over his shoulder.
I turn to my left and study a shop window, my heart hammering in my chest. For a second, I could have sworn that he looked right at me. Maybe I was too busy daydreaming about Amelia and I was just imagining it, but I could have sworn he stared at me like he recognized me.
I glance back toward him and he’s gone. I curse as I hurry up to the intersection and turn left. He’s standing right there, leaning up against a built, and my heart practically skip a beat as I walk past him.
He stares at me the whole way. Once I’m past, he pushes up off the wall and takes a few steps toward me.
“Hey!” he calls out.
I don’t turn back. I don’t slow down. I just keep walking, eyes on the sidewalk.
“You in the hat!” he yells. “I keep seeing you. Why are you following me?”
I’m fucking made. In all my time doing this, I’ve never been made before. I can’t believe it. I start to run as fast as I can, not bothering to pretend. I can’t ever follow him again, and will have to rely on Ryan and his people more now.
I hear Mark come after me, but I lose him easily as I move onto a more crowded block. He continues calling after me, but I just keep going, ignoring him, until I can finally double back toward my car.
Fucking piece of shit. I fucked up big time back there. I was made by some lowlife pedophile, and I have no clue how.
But that’s a lie. I know how, I just don’t want to admit it to myself. I’ve been sloppy lately.
Because of Amelia.
I can’t get her out of my head. Even tonight I was thinking about her touching herself, about her questions, about everything. Normally I’m focused entirely on my victim, but Amelia changed that.
Now, I’m a fucking mess, and I nearly screwed myself. I’m going to have to be extra careful with Mark Sheer now, because he’s going to be paranoid as fuck.
I just set myself back days at best.
Anger wells up inside of me. I fucked up and I can’t blame Amelia. I keep telling her how careful I am, and yet I got caught doing a simple tail.
As I get into my car and head back home, I know what I’m going to do when I get there.
I need to get her out of my head. I need to do something drastic, because I can’t afford any more mistakes.
I’m going to punish Amelia for distracting me with her tight little pussy. I’ll be able to think clearly once I’ve finally had her.
She’s been a dirty, bad girl, and I’m going to take my anger out on her.
And she’s going to fucking like it.
12
Amelia
My father comes toward me, his eyes glowing red. His hands are enormous and his mouth is a gaping maw filled with teeth. When he breathes, spit flies from his lips and steam runs along his skin. He comes toward me slowly, and I know he’s going to kill me. It won’t be fast, but he’ll do it, slowly but surely.
And then the man made of darkness steps into the light and plunges a sword into my father’s chest. I scream out in fear and pain, but I know I’m free, I’m liberated. The dark man saved me, and without him I would be buried in death and decay.
I wake up suddenly at the sound of the elevator ding. A little dazed, I sit up on my mattress and watch as Noah steps into the room.
I must have fallen asleep. On the mattress next to me is my book, still open to where I left it. I rub my eyes and watch as Noah walks into the room without saying a word.
“What time is it?” I ask him.
“Late,” he says.
I nod, remembering him feeding me dinner earlier. “Are you okay?” I ask.
He stands above me and I’m suddenly very awake. I’m incredibly aware of the way he’s looking at me, his eyes roaming my body, and the memory of touching myself earlier comes flooding back.
“I know what you did,” he says softly.
My heart skips a beat. “What?” I ask him.
“I heard you at first. You think I don’t have cameras in this room?” He smirks at me, steps closer. “Of course I do. I don’t always watch you, but I couldn’t keep my eyes off the screen earlier.”
I bite my lip and stare back at him, pulse pounding. I thought he might have cameras, but I wasn’t sure. He clearly has microphones too, and he must have heard me saying his name.
He knows. He knows what I want from him now. I can’t deny it or hide it even if I wanted to. He steps closer again, barely a couple of feet away.
I don’t say a word as he crouches down in front of me, that gorgeous cocky grin still on his face. The memory of my dream still lingers in the back of my mind, and I’m sure that Noah is the dark man that destroyed the monster. He’s a monster himself, but a different kind of monster.
“You want to get out of here,” he says simply.
I nod. “I do.”
“There’s something you can do to help yourself.”
“What?”
“Submit to me.”
I pause, surprised. “Submit . . . how?”
“We both know what you want,” he says, his voice a delicious baritone. “You want my cock between your legs, deep inside your slutty little cunt. You want me, even though you know how fucked up that is.” He leans closer. “Say it.”
“No,” I whisper, my last bit of resistance beginning to crumble inside of me. He’s so close and the way he’s looking at me makes my legs feel weak. He’s right that I’m dripping wet and I need him. God, I fucking want him, it’s sick and wrong but I want it.
“I don’t force you,” he says. “But if you want to leave this place, you should do as I say.”
I let a soft groan slip from between my lips as the thought of him ordering me onto my knees, his cock deep down my throat, makes me shiver.
“I want it,” I admit. I hate that I say it. But it feels so good anyway.
“Good girl,” he whispers.
My breath comes in deep and fast, and I feel like I’m going to pass out as excitement courses through my veins.
“Take off your clothes,” he orders.
I pause, torn. I know this is the moment I’ve been waiting for, but I don’t know what to do. If I obey him and give in to what I want, I know he’ll make me feel so much pleasure. But I don’t want to be sick and pathetic. I don’t want to give in to the man that murdered my father and took me prisoner.
I can see his dual nature, right there, so clearly before me. I can choose how I want to see him right in this moment. He’s both angel and demon, bad and good. The two halves are warring before my very eyes, or at least they are inside of me. I can choose to see him as the killer of evil men or the evil serial killer himself.
I don’t know where either choice will leave me. I can barely think beyond my own overwhelming desire. I’m not sure where it even came from, but through my
short time with him I’ve created this incredible image of him in my mind. If I embrace that image, I’ll give myself to him, but I’m not sure if I want him to use me. And I’m not sure that if he does take me, if I’ll ever get away.
Or if I’ll still want to leave.
The thought terrifies me, but also excites me. I have nothing else out there in the world. Noah is the first man to show me any positive attention, the first man to really seem like he cares about me. As strange as that is, he’s tender and gentle with me.
But he’s a killer. He’s a freak.
He’s a gorgeous man with a conscience.
I hate him. I want him.
I’m disgusted with myself. I’m dripping wet, aching for him.
As I slowly move to the edge of the bed and sit there, staring back at him, I know that I made my choice hours ago. Maybe even days ago. Maybe even the moment I saw him in that bathroom, his knife in my bastard father’s chest.
I slowly pull my shirt off. I’m not wearing anything underneath, and his eyes take in my breasts and my small, pink nipples.
“Everything,” he commands.
I stand and he stands. He remains so close to me as I bend over and slide off my pants and then my panties. They’re dripping wet and useless as I toss them aside.
Noah looks at me, a slight smirk on his face, more angel than demon.
“Good girl,” he says. He reaches forward and takes my chin, tipping my face up toward his. I’m ringing with desire and need, practically trembling with it.
I don’t see the killer looking back at me. Instead, I just see Noah.
I expect him to kiss me. Instead, he turns me. I can feel him press against me from behind, his hands exploring my body. He feels my breasts, my hips, and finds my pussy. He spread my legs and teases my clit.
“This is for resisting so long,” he says, and pushes me forward. He bends me over and I support myself with my hands on the mattress.
His hand leaves my clit and then I feel a sharp smack on my ass. I gasp and look over my shoulder. His face is a dark mask as he spanks me again, harder, and I moan. His hand goes back between my legs, teasing my clit, as his other hand slaps my ass again and again.
I moan, watching him as he spanks me hard. He keeps working my clit as he spanks me, and I think I’m going to have red marks as my nice white skin for days.
“I’m taking my frustration out on you,” he says, taking my hair and pulling me back against him, standing me upright. “I’ve had a very frustrating day. Are you going to help me?”
“Yes,” I moan. “Whatever you want.”
“Good.” He slaps my ass again, a smirk on his lips. His one hand moves to gently cup my throat as his other presses between my legs. He softly rubs my clit, his lips on my shoulder, his hand on my throat. I can’t help but moan. I feel so naked, so small and vulnerable. Noah is twice my size, at least, and I know he can break me. I’m already worried that he might tear me apart. I can feel his large cock hard against my back.
“Is this what you thought about as you fucked your own little cunt?” he whispers in my ear.
“No,” I moan.
“What did you think about?”
“You fucking me,” I say.
“How?”
“From behind. You push me down onto the floor and take me rough.”
“Is that what you like?” He chuckles. “I knew you were a dirty fucking girl, Amelia.”
“I can’t help it,” I moan as his fingers slide up inside of me.
“I know you can’t. That’s why I want to keep you.”
“Keep me?”
“Yes,” he whispers. “I want you to submit to me. I want to make you mine, Amelia. I’ll keep you here, dripping wet and waiting for me to come home and fuck your tight cunt. You’ll live and breathe pleasure for me.”
“Yes,” I whisper, body reacting to the fantasy. I want to be his little sex slave, constantly wet, constantly ready for his thick cock. I’d fuck him, suck him, swallow his cum and beg for more.
“That’s right,” he whispers. “I can feel you getting wetter. You like that, don’t you?”
“I do,” I admit, losing myself.
“Good.” His hand around my throat tightens every so slightly. “You’re going to be my bad fucking girl.”
He turns me and pushes me back down onto the mattress. He drops to his knees in front of me and spreads my legs.
I’m surprised as hell as he kisses along the sensitive skin on my inner thighs. His tongue finally finds my soaking pussy and he slowly laps me, bottom to top.
I can’t help myself. Moans escape my lips as he pushes me back, his mouth on my clit sucking and licking gently, his hands on my breasts. He teases my nipples with his fingers as he licks me. I reach down and press my fingers through his hair as his tongue slides inside of me and he moves his hands back down to open my legs wider.
I’ve never had a man like Noah down between my legs before. He seems to sense my every need and reacts to every noise I make as he sucks and licks me. He slides two fingers deep inside of my pussy as he continues to suck and lick my pussy. I can’t believe the sensations that assail me, intense and overwhelming. I’m lost in his touch as I toss my head back and moan.
“Fuck, girl,” he says, still sliding his fingers in and out of me. I feel his fingers curling to find that sensitive bundle of nerves on my pussy wall. “You taste incredible. You know that, sugar?”
“Don’t call me that,” I gasp at him.
He grins. “I can call you whatever I want. You’re mine now.”
“Yes,” I gasp, grabbing his hair as his fingers begin to fuck me faster. My back arches and my nipples are rock hard in the cool air of the basement. His tongue goes back to work, lapping me, sucking me, licking me. I press him down righter, rolling my hips, sensing the orgasm building up inside of me.
I can’t believe how fast it comes and how intense it feels. Noah manages to build me up and release me exactly like I’ve been needing it as his fingers keep doing their work and his tongue keeps sucking my clit. I throw my head back wildly and say his name, my mind completely lost.
The orgasm overtakes me and every muscle in my body contracts. He doesn’t let up as I come in his mouth, his fingers pushing faster, his lips sucking tighter. I groan, gripping his hair, working my hips, getting every single drop of pleasure possible from him as the orgasm peaks, crests, and slowly ebbs through my system.
I collapse back onto the bed, spent, panting, shocked. I can hardly believe that just happened. I can hardly believe that I said his name like that, let him take me like that. I can’t believe I undressed for him.
I can’t believe I chose this.
“I’ll see you in the morning.” He stands, turns, and then leaves. I hear the elevator door ding open, and then he’s gone.
I lay there panting, shocked at myself, body vibrating from the orgasm. My pussy is still a soaking mess and I know that if he comes for more, he can have it. He can have whatever he wants.
I made my choice, and I won’t back down.
13
Noah
I wake up slowly, the sun streaming in through my bedroom window. I check the clock and am surprised that I actually slept past seven for the first time in a long time.
I can still taste her as I get out of bed. My whole body yearns to go down into that basement and fuck her rough until she screams, but I can’t do it. I have to hold back, for at least a little bit longer. I need her to want it so badly that she’s out of her mind and begging me to finally take her.
That’s how I’ll resolve this, I realize. I’m going to make her mine, make her mine completely and utterly.
I can let her out of the basement today. I don’t need to keep her chained up. She won’t want to run, not anymore. Not when there’s a promise of so much more still to come. Besides, she has nowhere to go and nobody to help her, and we’re so far from the only place she really knows.
I’m sick of keeping her chained
up. I want to give her something nice now. There are a few more bedrooms in my house, and she can choose which one she wants. Of course, I’ll have to put a house arrest bracelet on her ankle, just to be sure. She’ll be allowed to move around my property, but if she leaves, I’ll be alerted. She won’t leave, though. That’s just a precaution.
I brush my teeth, shower, dress, and then go prepare her breakfast. It’ll be her last meal down in the basement, although she doesn’t quite know it yet. My heart beats fast with excitement as I picture what it will be like to have someone like Amelia living in my house with me.
I’ve had women here before in the past, but never one like Amelia. I never wanted to give a woman a room of her own before, but things are different with Amelia.
I know she’s my captive. I know I killed her father in front of her. But I think she understands me in a way I never thought anyone could. Maybe Amelia has a darkness inside of her, too, and she can sense that we’re alike. Part of me believes that’s true, but I can’t be sure.
Not yet, at least. I have a plan.
First, I’ll let her out. Then I’ll test her, see if she has the darkness inside of her like I do. And if she does, well, maybe there can be something else between us. Something even better.
I carry her breakfast on a tray and get into the elevator. I ride it down, a new sensation in my chest. It’s excitement, pure excitement over the possibilities that I sensed between me and her. The doors slide open and I step into the room.
Amelia is awake already and sitting up in bed, a book open in her lap. She smiles as I walk over to her and place the tray down on the floor next to her bed.
“How did you sleep?” I ask.
“Fine.” She reaches down and picks up a mug of coffee. She sips it, a little surprised. “The coffee is new.”
“There are going to be a lot of changes today.”
She pauses and looks at me. “What does that mean?”
I smile at her. “Eat first.”