Then he opens his hands and drags the tips of his fingers down the length of my arms.
The touch of his fingers is so light, so feathery it’s almost ticklish.
“How many times I’ve thought, dreamed, and fucking fantasized about having you chained to my bed?”
When he reaches my armpits, his touch finally tickles, and I find myself twitching and jerking. My legs trying to kick up but stopped by his weight.
My pulse is beating so hard now I swear I can feel it throbbing in my tongue as I tell him, “No, and I don’t want to know. I don’t want to play this game anymore. I’m serious, unchain me.”
I’m done. Done with this madness.
Because that’s what this is. Pure, psychological madness inside his head.
Chaining me up. The red light. Ignoring my demands to let me go. Revealing his secrets…
He’s totally gone off the deep end.
Ignoring me, James’s attention drops from my face, his eyes following his hands as his fingers trace down to my breasts.
I glance down and barely recognize myself.
With the red light painting my skin, my body looks erotic.
Almost obscene.
“This isn’t a game,” he rasps as his fingers stroke down and his palms drag across my nipples. “Not when I’ve killed as many men as I have…”
The way he says it… it sounds like he’s talking about killing more than the two men he killed the night he rescued me.
I shouldn’t say anything. I know I should keep my mouth shut.
But the worry that he’s killed more than the two men I know about is already planted in my head.
Trying my best to ignore the urge to squirm, to move, as his big hands continue to travel down, slowly crossing the expanse of my stomach, I gulp and say, “If you wanted repayment for the two men you killed, you should have taken me when you had the chance. Now it’s too late.”
As if he can’t help himself, James leans down, his mouth pressing against a spot just above my breasts.
His lips brush against me and the tip of his tongue darts out, flicking against me like he’s tasting me.
“I’ve killed more than those two men…” he exhales, and goosebumps spread across my skin before his teeth nip. “I’ve killed at least five… or six…”
Oh fuck.
“What? Why?” I gasp, giving into the urge to squirm away from him.
Grabbing me firmly by the hips, James holds me in place as he begins to slide down, kissing and nipping a warm, wet path between my breasts. “Because they wanted to hurt you or put you in danger…”
Shit.
A part of me was hoping he found the warehouse and got a little revenge.
The way he’s talking though…
He’s talking like he killed just for the kicks of it.
I could still be confusing everything though. Maybe he’s totally justified.
His weight leaves my thighs, but with his grip still on my hips, I can’t move up enough to do anything about the chains and cuffs restraining me.
“Because they deserved it,” he growls as his mouth reaches my stomach.
A second later I feel his tongue dip into my belly button and get that same feeling I got when he started suckling on my ass.
The feeling of wanting to crawl out of my skin.
Gritting my teeth together and straining against my restraints, I beg, “Stop, please.”
I don’t want to know any more. If he confesses he’s killed people in cold blood and I don’t report him, he makes me an accomplice to murder.
And I’d rather not know…
I’m not a fucking priest and this isn’t a church. I don’t want to hear his confession. I can’t handle this shit.
“Because after I killed the first… after sawing into his fucking neck… it was a way to release some tension.”
Bile begins to rise in my throat at the mental image.
He sawed into someone’s neck?!
To release tension?!
Normal people would go jogging or something…
But no, he kills people.
Fuck!
“Why are you telling me this? Why are you telling me this now?!” I cry out in a near scream.
Nearly frantic with the need to be free now, I twist from side to side and kick at his chest, trying to slip free from his hands.
Grunting when my toes connect with his hard pec, James slides his hands down and grabs me by the thighs.
Pushing my knees up toward my chest, he jerks my legs wide open.
“Because I don’t want there to be any more secrets between us, Sophia. And…”
I want to die, fucking die, when his gaze bores between my legs.
Swallowing, his Adam’s apple bobs up and down before his voice comes out raw and thick, “You have no idea what you do to me.”
He starts to lean in, and I try to snap my knees shut.
Fingers digging into the meaty flesh of my thighs, he pries me back open.
“You have no clue how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he growls, his eyes rolling up to glare at me before dropping back down.