Descent (Black Heart Romance)

The bite surprises him for a split second, but it’s all I need to slip free.

I drop to my knees instantly without his support, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll crawl out of here if I have to, I just can’t let him…

My thoughts get lost in the fog. I can’t remember why, I can’t think straight anymore, I just know I have to get out of this apartment.

I want to, I need to, but my body feels so heavy and this apartment feels too big. Hopelessness threatens to swallow me, but I crawl forward as the edges of my vision start to darken and fade out.

I can’t let him catch me. I have to get away.

He steps in front of me. He feels like an immovable obstacle. His shiny, expensive loafer is pristine. The folds in the fabric of his pants won’t even dare wrinkle. I tilt my heavy head back and skim the muscular curve of his thigh, then my gaze hits the bulge of his cock. He’s already getting excited. He told me I was no good to him passed out.

He lied.

I don’t know why that’s so disappointing. Of course he lied. He’s a monster.

He continues to lie, with that tender look in his eyes and the gentle way he reaches down and caresses my cheek.

I want to cry, but more than that, I want to sleep. My body is too heavy, and I can’t fight, not like this.

“Please don’t hurt me,” I whisper.

I don’t know what he says, or if he answers me at all.

My strength gives out and I collapse on the floor at his feet.

___

Thirsty.

I’m so fucking thirsty.

I’m aware of it even before I’m fully awake, caught in a haze between reality and a dreamless sleep, but searching for water all the same.

My head pounds. My mouth is so dry. I’m disoriented and nothing feels right.

Where am I?

Somewhere soft, but this doesn’t feel like my bed. I shift and luxurious silk moves across my bare skin.

My bare skin.

I don’t sleep naked.

I don’t have silk sheets, either. A silk pillowcase to prevent my hair from getting too crazy, but not sheets.

I shift again and feel the cool silk pressed against my skin. It feels nice. So does the thick, plushy blanket draped on top of me.

This bed feels like heaven. So soft, so luxurious. I want to stay in it forever.

I turn and curl into the comfort, but something niggles at the back of my mind. Something urgent that tells me I shouldn’t, that I need to get out of the bed and do something…

Horror clears away some of the fog when it hits me—I’m naked in a strange bed.

Why? Where was I?

Then it all starts to flood back in.

The picture isn’t clear—each splintered memory is a broken shard I have to piece together. The dinner. Calvin. The twisted things he said to me as he waited for the strength to leave my drugged body.

My drugged body.

Oh, God.

The room is dark, so it must be night. I turn my head and start to sit up, but as soon as I do, pain throbs around my temples, making me so lightheaded I immediately lie back down.

The bed moves beside me. I turn my aching head and see Calvin lying there on his side of the bed. The blanket covering me up to my breasts is only draped across his hips, leaving his entire upper body exposed.

His naked upper body.

He’s naked.

And so am I.

In his bed.

I can’t remember anything. The last thing I remember is dancing with him, then I have a foggy recollection of crawling toward the gallery, trying to escape.

Obviously, I didn’t make it.

I knew I wouldn’t. He was right behind me.

Everything else is foggy. I don’t know how I ended up here. All I know is I’m here with him in his bed, and my clothes are gone.

I feel for them just to be sure. My hand slides over my naked breast and the peak of my nipple. I run it down my stomach, and slide my fingers between my bare legs.

I squeeze my eyes closed when I feel nothing, not a single thread of fabric on my body.

He lied. He told me it wouldn’t do anything for him to rape me while I was unconscious, but the bastard lied.

My heart feels so heavy, and I feel so, so stupid.

I should have known. I did know. I knew what would happen if I came here, but I had to come anyway. He had my cat.

Tears well up in my eyes, but they don’t fall. It’s just a little sadness, not a full on, dramatic cry.

I’m almost resigned, even though it has just hit me.

I knew this would happen, and now it has.

What I don’t know is what happens next.

My mouth is so dry, I can’t even focus on anything else. I don’t want to ask him for anything, but I’m desperate. “Do you have water?”