Page 29 of Beneath the Watching

Stefan bent forward slightly, chuckling as he leaned in. “I seem to remember you in fact did.”

Had I? I was still too thrown off by my conscious arrival to wherever this place was to remember. “No...” I said, shaking my head. “You grabbed me off the street for no reason.”

“No reason?” He thrust an arm around my back and used his other hand to lay me down. “I don’t do anything without a purpose.”

Unable to tear my eyes away, I watched as his own began to glow. It was like they were filling with lava, as a thin, viscous liquid melted over the deep brown shade. His dark hair fell forward on one side, brushing against his brow and casting a deeper shadow under his defined cheekbones. Tearing my eyesaway from his wickedly beautiful face, I asked, “What have I done?”

“Your soft tone can’t hide your guilt, Mabel.” He answered, wrapping both hands around my neck as he climbed onto the sofa. His grip was firm enough to partially cut off my airway and I could feel my pulse thudding against his thumbs.

My guilt? “I didn’t mean to bother you,” I gasped, barely able to speak.

“You’ve done much more than botherme.” Leaving a hand around my neck, he used his other to scratch his nails down my side before they pressed into my leg, leaving a slightly painful trail.

Stefan brought his face to mine and claimed my lips, bruising them with a punishing kiss. I clawed at him, trying to fight him off, my nails snagging in the fabric of his shirt. He pressed in harder in response and I felt his fervor against my belly.

“Only for me, beauty, save it all for me,” he moved his mouth to whisper in my ear. “You’re going to suffer, too.”

His hand released its hold to pull my hair into his fist, forcing my head to an almost painful angle. His lips nibbled at my flesh in between sharp bites while his breath travelled up and down the expanse of my neck. The first hot lash of his tongue felt like a kiss from the devil and my fingers dug into his upper arms in response.

“Open yourself to me,” he demanded before he bit down on just above my collarbone. My back arched up at the sudden stab of pain and he clamped down harder.

Gasping, I tried to push him away so I could breathe but the swipe of his tongue eased the pain before his hand wandered to my waist band and pushed inside. Each flick of his tongue began to send darts of delicious heat shooting to my core and I moaned, pulling even harder on his hair. The soft strands weaved through my fingers as his touch reached the seambetween my legs. I instantly forgot I’d been fighting him off. I’d daydreamed relentlessly about doing exactly this with him and it was better than I ever could’ve imagined.

Stefan gently parted my lower lips as he raised his head from my chest. “You’re going to feel everything as I tear down your walls,” he growled. My head was spinning.

The light in the room dimmed suddenly and I heard a click in the background. The couch shifted the same time he pulled away. With his body heat removed, I felt cool air drifting across my abdomen, and I self-consciously went to pull my shirt down to cover my waist.

“No,” Stefan growled, seizing my wrist.

I froze, although I probably couldn’t have moved even if I wanted to. His grip was unforgiving, and the atmosphere charged with electricity. He let go and then the sound of fabric hitting the floor filled my ears. A metallic clink echoed through the room, followed by a soft dragging noise. It took me a moment to realize it was his belt and then he climbed back onto the couch and straddled me.

The question, “what are you doing?” kept running through my head but I couldn’t bring myself to open my mouth to verbalize it once his hands touched my skin. He slowly dragged them from my collarbone, down over my breasts, and then to my sides to grip my waist all while I squirmed under his palms’ warm contact.

My own hands snagged when I went to reach for him. Somehow, he’d tied me to part of the couch with a leather strap, and I hadn’t noticed until I tried to move. I’d been too focused on the man leaning over me, his smell, the feel of his legs beside mine, and the ball of heat in my core begging to be sated.

Stefan moved back a little bit and began tugging my pants the rest of the way down, along with my underwear. When hefinished, he shoved a leg between mine, pushing my thighs open so one of my legs hung off the couch.

“Stefan,” I pleaded, my voice barely audible. “Please.” He’d bent over me again and was leaning on one arm, with his other tucked around my lower back. His breath brushed against my cheekbone.

“Please?” he rasped beside my ear.

It was hard to think while my entire being was enthralled; all my senses were engaged. There was no way to escape him, and I knew this was going to happen. I just wasn’t sure I was ready.

“You want me to fill you up, don’t you?” He bit my earlobe sending a shiver down my spine. “All you can think of is me, isn’t it? If all I can think of is you, you’re going to repay the favor.”

There was something so sinful, so erotic and intoxicating about the threatening tone in his voice I couldn’t help but whimper. He pulled his arm out from under me and grabbed my hair, tilting my head back. “I thought you wanted to get rid of me,” I moaned.

Stefan’s lips were only an inch from mine when he said, “I do.”

His lips crashed down on mine and his tongue swept inside my mouth. I couldn’t help it; I met him with the same enthusiasm, exploring his mouth with my own. He tasted of whisky and heartbreak, and I felt myself weakening more than I already had, my walls crumbling exactly as he wanted. This man would destroy me, if I let him.

Nothing he’d ever done could convince me that he truly wanted me out of the picture. The way he’d look at me, his eyes full of obsession and desire. There was always plenty of malice, but beneath the surface I’d detect hints of longing and something like hope, as if I were the answer to a burning question.

Despite his threats, he looked out for me. What else could he have been doing when he examined my house top to bottom the night he’d dropped me off? And what about when Ilya approached our table? It’d seemed he’d tear the man limb from limb if he’d so much as brushed my shoulder.

Stefan still hadn’t told me why he’d yanked me off the street and forced me into the car, or why he’d brought me here when he’d been so adamant about the subject. I’d fought him, but he hadn’t tied me up until now. “Give me back my hands,” I said, short of breath. I’m pretty sure my voice was dripping with as much lust as the space between my legs.

He let go of my hair and dragged his tongue softly along the length of my neck before answering. “No.”

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