Page 37 of Blades of Obsession

She jumps a little and sags her shoulders, following him out of the room yelling, “She started it!”

This has been a batshit crazy night so far.

As they leave, Blade shifts his attention to me and extends his hand out. “Come here,” he says, his voice softer now but still carrying that same power that makes me want to listen.

He kisses my forehead, murmuring, “I’m glad you didn’t get hurt in the commotion,” before leading the way.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“To the movie room. Didn’t you say watching horror movies was your favorite thing to do? Frankie and Asher can join us whenever they’re done… doing what they’re doing.” He chuckles.

The room we enter is dimly lit, with a massive screen projector on the wall and fifteen or so recliner chairs. But that’s not the part that makes my breath catch in my throat.

There’s blush pink colored balloons in clusters around the room, some floating lazily on the ceiling. The walls are draped in fairy lights. The air smells faintly of vanilla and rose, my favorite scents, and I realize there’s a small bouquet of roses sitting on the side table next to my favorite snacks.

I feel a lump form in my throat and my chest tightens. But in a good way. “You did all this for me?”

“I’d do anything for you, angel.” He grabs my hand and kisses it. “Now sit down. Third row, second seat from the aisle.”

I sit down on the recliner he tells me to, and he hovers over me, mischief dancing in his eyes. He’s planning something. The thought ignites an insatiable fire inside me, something I’ve never felt with past lovers.

Probably because the others were all so predictable, boring even. Never anything different or exciting. But with Blade, I never know what’s coming next. The way he looks at me, the things he does—almost predatory—like he thrives on instinct, it’s fierce, it’s primal, and there’s a thrill that draws me in.

A soft hum escapes my lips when his mouth finds my neck, tracing a path along my jaw and collarbone.

“I knew these bows would come in handy one day,” he rasps, slipping the ribbon from my hair and tying it over my eyes. It’s just thick enough that I can’t see anything.

“Aiden?” I breathe out, hearing the sounds of the TV starting in the background.

“Shh… just enjoy.”

I hear the faint whoosh of the mini fridge opening, followed by something rattling inside. The fridge is close enough that the cool air brushes against my legs, contrasting with the warmth of my skin. Every sound seems amplified—the creak of the fridge door closing, his soft footsteps approaching.

His lips trace over my neck again, but it feels cold with each touch this time. A good cold. It sends electric tingles throughout my whole body.

The makeshift blindfold makes all the sensations heightened—every kiss, every touch more intense because I can’t anticipate what he’ll do next.

I feel the fabric of my dress slowly being peeled away from my body.

“Fuck,” he mutters, gripping my breasts with both hands. “So perfect.”

Suddenly, a scream fills the room, shrill and unrelenting, mixed with the sound of leaves crunching and desperate breaths.

I jump and my breathing quickens.

“You love horror movies, right?” he taunts.

The cold sensation goes over my nipple, my body shudders and my back arches off the recliner. It’s cold and also… a little warm?

“Aiden…” I pant as my fingers instinctively tangle in his hair, just when a slashing sound reverberates from the speakers. “Is that ice?”It feels so freaking good.

He doesn’t answer. Instead, his teeth grazes my nipple before latching onto the other one, sucking hard. I suddenly feel a cool stream of water drip onto my stomach. Did he just spit the melted ice onto me?

The sound of footsteps on the TV echoes in front of me, and I imagine a killer stalking his prey. The thought sends goosebumps over my body. The suspense from the sudden silence, from both Blade and the TV, is killing me. Anything could happen. At any moment. And that sends my heart racing.

Then, there’s a rattle off to the side, and I jump slightly, until I figure he’s reaching for another piece of ice. But the next thing I feel isn’t ice, it’s metal.

The knife.

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