Page 27 of Monstrous Urges

Hours later, after taking her out anyway for celebratory drinks—a Manhattan for me, a virgin Mojito for her—I’m trudging back to the Soho Grand.

I really need to figure out what I’m doing with my fucking apartment. The couch is being taken out in a few days, at least, and I think that might help me purge the mental image of little miss Delta-Beta-Skank blowing my boyfriend with her ass up in the air.

I giggle to myself as I open the door to my suite, replaying the image of Steven’s OH FUCK face while his TA was earning an Academy Award pretending to “deep throat” his uncomfortably small dick.

I haphazardly drop my stuff onto a side table. I ended up having two Manhattans just now with Elsa, so I’m feeling a little tipsy as I kick off my heels and walk across the dark living room toward the bedroom.

I don’t even make it halfway there.

A huge, gloved hand wraps tight around my mouth. A massive hulking body crashes into me from behind, shoving me forward and slamming me against the windows. Adrenaline and pure fear flood every nerve in my body as my spine snaps tight and my skin electrifies.

The low, masculine chuckle in my ear sends cold liquid fear dripping down my back like blood from the tip of a knife as he holds me firm.

“Should have locked your door, baby girl…”

6

TAYLOR

This can’t be happening.

This isn’t real.

But none of the lies I scream at myself through the roaring in my ears has any effect whatsoever. Pure, undiluted, naked fear rips its claws through my very soul. My chest constricts, my lungs and throat burning, as I scream into the big hand clamped over my mouth.

I try and kick my heel back, but my attacker easily dodges it. Then, when he slams his weight into me, pinning my body to the glass in front of me, my face explodes with heat.

He’s hard.

My blood turns to liquid fire as I feel the thick, throbbing bulge in his pants pressing and pulsing against my ass. His thigh pushes between mine, making me choke on my breath as he roughly shoves my legs apart. He keeps grinding against me as a second strong hand gets between me and the glass windows. I moan, shuddering as he roughly mauls my breasts and brutally pinches and twists a nipple through my blouse.

“Patience may be a virtue, my little slut,” the man rasps darkly into my ear, grinding his fat erection against me. “But it’s not one of mine.”

His hand leaves my breast, pulling away for a minute. When I hear the unmistakable sound of a knife opening, my blood runs cold.

“You don’t get to say no this time,” he snarls.

I whimper as the blade touches my throat.

“In fact, you don’t get to say anything at all. I’m going to take my hand away from this mouth now. If you scream, or say anything at all without my permission, I’m going to fill it with my cock until you choke. Nod if you fucking understand.”

I nod quickly, trembling as adrenaline explodes through my system. His gloved hand slips from my mouth, and the heat of his breath on my neck makes me shudder.

“Say the fucking safe word, and I’ll stop.”

Everything goes still as it hits me.

Holy. Fucking. Hell.

It’s him.

The man from the woods.

I actually did manage to forget with the chaos in my professional life that my location is on and easily visible to him.

...And he’s finally decided to use that knowledge.

It’s then that the raw fear inside of me starts to morph into something else. Something fucked up and wicked. Viciously addictive, and unnervingly hungry.

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