hing, but she squints while fighting the urge to peek.
“Goddamnit, look at ME!” I demand as I lean back to look down at her prone form trapped beneath me.
Her eyes snap open, locking onto mine. Soft ash-grey eyes meet my empty, nearly coal-black ones, and they widen as she gazes at my features.
Recognition flashes across her face for a moment before morphing into wariness, “I know you from somewhere. I’ve seen you before.”
I neither acknowledge nor deny her statement, and she starts to look confused as she tries to remember, momentarily pausing in her attempt to free herself from my hold. I squeeze her wrists, bringing her back, distracting her from her thoughts, and she cries out.
I press her more firmly to the bathroom floor, mentally cursing the cramped space in here for making this so difficult. I can’t stand up without letting her go first, and I am enjoying the closeness too much to want to remove myself from her just yet. She bucks against me again, growling in frustration when I don’t budge. I smirk at her futile bid for freedom. Not happening, she isn’t going anywhere. Even if she did somehow get out of my grip, she wouldn’t get very far.
“It’s useless to fight, stop struggling.” I admonish her, voice tinged with amusement.
The look of disgust that crosses her face tells me she picked up on my tone and wasn’t the least bit pleased about it. I push my body harder against her, and she whimpers at the contact, at the feel of my rigid cock pressed against her cunt through both our jeans. Fear blows her eyes wide, then she pinches them shut again, turning her face away from me.
“No, don’t,” she pleads with me.
I huff out an annoyed breath, before pressing a kiss to her upturned cheek, “Not this time.”
Before getting up, I grind once against her, eliciting a gasped exhale from her. “You are mine, and you aren’t going anywhere.”
9
Violet
I relax when he finally lets go of my wrists and leaves the confining bathroom, which seemed ten times smaller with his presence invading the room. I suppress the urge to throw up the contents of my stomach, which seems to have relocated itself to somewhere a little higher while my heart was trapped in my throat. The way he looked at me… and when he pressed himself against me, that teasing threat before he lifted himself from my body. I didn’t know what to think, I just knew that on some level I didn’t want to know exactly what he was capable of.
I slowly push myself up, coming back to the present and away from twisting thoughts and possibilities. I look down at my hands and notice faint purple bruises circling my wrists from when he pinned me to the floor. I hear the scrape and click of the bedroom door and know that once again, I am alone. I’m always so alone.
I know it deep in my heart that no-one will look for me. My mom couldn’t care less about my wellbeing, so my not contacting her won’t worry her because I never do reach out, and she doesn’t to me either.
I’ll lose my job, but at least I will still have my house. I already miss my house, even with it being as small as it is. It was a total bargain buy, and I bought it cheap because of its poor condition when it was on the market. It took an awful lot of time and money to make it habitable and comfortable. It’s completely mine, and it was so worth the trouble.
A thought occurs to me all of a sudden, I wonder what Z will think when I don’t send anymore messages. Then, I start to get angry. It’s His fault that I’m trapped here with a madman: alone and afraid, with no way out. If only he hadn’t been such a huge asshole that night and stood me up, then I wouldn’t have been walking to my car on my own.
“Z, why weren’t you there? Why did you not come that night?” I whisper mournfully, looking around at the room that is to be my prison.
My eyes fill with tears at the thought. I wish he had been there. He would have stopped this from happening.
“This is YOUR fault!” I scream out as anger briefly overrides my sorrow, just before I break down in sobs once again.
I hear movement outside the bedroom door and I rush over, pounding my fists on the wood, “LET ME OUT! PLEASE!”
I hear footsteps moving away, the sound fading, and then stopping. Silence surrounds me, save for my harsh breathing after the outburst. I throw myself onto the bed, the mattress squeaking slightly. I grab my blanket, wrapping it around myself like a warm, comforting cocoon, trying to hide from the horror that is now my new life. This is the only solace I have from my old one; the familiar detergent wafting up my nose, soothing my aching heart and tired mind. I whisper hoarsely one last time before my eyes drift closed and sleep finally takes me. “Please.”
10
Him
When I hear her plead with me to let her go, I don’t even react. I expected this; I knew that she would fight and beg. I steeled myself against it. But when I heard her question about why she was all alone that night, I can’t help but smirk. I was there. I was right there in the room with her, and she had no clue. A wave of pride courses through my body at the knowledge that my plan had worked so much better than I anticipated. I set the trap, and she walked into it without considering the consequences or the truth behind my words.
I retrieve the case from my car containing Violet’s things and bring it into the house before moving the car to the slightly concealed garage attached to the side of the house. I go through the back door of the garage and straight into the garden, making my way round to the back of the house and locking the door behind me. It’s easy to miss because of all the overgrown ivy which is covering most of the brick attachment. I flick on a light, the bulb flickers in its fixture before humming to life. I want to see everything in detail. I was in a hurry to leave her house, so I didn’t take the time to really look through her things, and the few times I was there before, it was dark and I was being careful not to wake her. That’s when I stole the blanket that she now clings to like it will protect her from me. Nothing will protect her from me, not even myself.
When sifting through her possessions, I find very little of interest, save for her laptop and the memory card from her phone, which I will search through later. I destroy the phone, making it impossible to trace her should someone decide to report her missing. I rifle through her clothing, lots of plain colors, nothing bright or flashy until… Jackpot. What’s this? My shy little Violet likes lingerie.
I discover amongst the plain and ordinary clothing that she owns a rather lovely collection of lingerie, matching bras and panties in lace and satin, and a few lacy nighties. Well, well, well. I’ll be letting her have these, as I’ll definitely enjoy seeing her wear these on my cameras after I cut what she is currently wearing off her body. She will have no choice but to wear them unless she wants to spend her time naked. While I wouldn't complain about that, I would never be able to keep my hands off her, it’s a struggle as it is. I feel a sudden urge to see her, so I abandon my task of looking through her stuff.
I hurry back to my room and sit in my chair watching the screens. Stress has exhausted her, and she is now asleep. So peaceful and delicate, my Violet is in her slumber. My body heats and tightens at the memory of her sweet little form pressed against me. I so very nearly took her right there on the bathroom floor, but I managed to resist. I want her, and soon. I don’t know how much longer I will be able to hold back, but these little touches and encounters are not going to be enough. I’m hungry, and I’m desperate to sate and indulge that fierce ache I am feeling on her.