Page 87 of Silent Stalker

"Bend over, sweetheart," he growls, shoving me against the brick wall. His breath reeks of alcohol and entitlement.

I struggle against his grip, playing my part. "No, please?—"

A shadow moves behind Marcus. Through the dim light, I catch the gleam of wire pulled taut. The Ghost mask appears, and Silas's eyes lock with mine through the eyeholes. In one fluid motion, he loops the garrote around Marcus's throat.

Marcus releases me, his hands flying to his neck. His legs kick out as Silas lifts him off the ground with raw strength. The wire bites deeper. Marcus's fingers scrabble uselessly against it, his face turning purple.

I straighten my dress and step closer, watching Marcus's wild eyes. "You thought I was helpless, didn't you? Like all the others?" My voice stays steady and cold. "But tonight, you're the prey. We've seen your file—all those cases dismissed, all those women you hurt."

Marcus thrashes harder, but Silas’s grip never wavers. Blood trickles where the wire cuts into flesh.

"It's time to rid this earth of scum like you," I say, meeting his panicked gaze.

"Do it, Silas." The words feel torn from my throat as I watch Marcus struggle against the wire Silas holds taut around his neck. Silas and I understand each other. We're both attracted to the darkness and mystery of it all. Silas embodies the shadowed figure in my fantasies. Now, here we are, bringing a predator's reign to an end.

Silas pulls hard on the wire. I watch, mesmerized, as the thin metal cuts through Marcus's skin, slicing deep into his throat. Blood spurts in rhythmic pulses, staining his shirt and my face. His legs buck and twist, seeking purchase, but Silas maintains his merciless hold.

Marcus chokes and gurgles, a gruesome, wet sound that echoes off the alley walls. The wire bites deeper as his body bucks against it, driven by instinct. His eyes bulge, the veins in his neck standing out like cords.

Panic strikes me, not for Marcus but for us. "Someone might hear," I whisper. "Finish it, Silas."

His blue eyes lock with mine as if asking for permission. I nod almost imperceptibly.

With a swift, vicious motion, Silas sinks a blade into Marcus's chest. Once, twice, three times. A ritualistic rhythm. Blood wells up around the wounds, soaking into his shirt.

The light flickers in Marcus's eyes as his legs cease to kick. His body goes limp, supported only by the wire around his neck.

Silas gently lowers the body to the ground, his eyes never leaving mine. He stands, wiping his blade on a cloth before returning it to his pocket.

The adrenaline surges through my body as I watch Marcus's lifeless form crumple to the ground. Silas releases the wire, letting the body fall in a heap, his neck now a mangled mess.

We've done this before—this deadly dance in the shadows. My breath quickens as I step closer, my eyes never leaving Silas’s. I feel a connection between us, like an electric current. I reach out and touch his bare arm, his muscles taut beneath his sleeve.

He stares at me, his eyes flicking down to my lips before he lifts his mask and leans in. My heart hammers in my chest as our mouths meet, a rush of blood clouding my senses. The kiss is hungry, primal. I taste the victim's blood on his lips, and it sends a shiver down my spine.

Our tongues dance, his breath ragged with the thrill of the kill. I moan softly, my fingers tightening on his arms. Silas deepens the kiss, his hands gripping my hips, pulling me against him. I can feel his arousal, his need mirroring my own.

The kiss is savage, wild. It awakens something primal within me—a desire I've kept chained and hidden. The brush of the Ghost mask against my skin makes me shudder as Silas pulls me closer, his hands rough and demanding.

He pins me against the wall, his body pressing into mine with urgent need. The bricks bite into my back, but I want more. I crave the sensation of our flesh against the unforgiving stone.

Silas breaks the kiss, his eyes dark and hooded. "This is what you want," he growls, his breath hot against my neck. "Say it."

"Yes." My voice is hoarse and raw, thick with desire. It's what I need."

His hands are everywhere, tearing at my dress, baring my skin to the cold night air. I shiver, my nipples hardening. Silas's mouth claims one tight peak, his tongue flicking and teasing until I arch against him, gasping.

He pulls away, stepping back to admire his handiwork. I stand before him, my dress in ruins, my breasts heaving with each breath. Silas's eyes burn with the same relentless hunger that consumes me.

He reaches for the mask, pulling it back into place. His eyes, visible through the eyeholes, hold mine captive.

His eyes burn into mine as he lifts me, pressing me against the cold brick wall. The wire that strangled our victim is still looped around Silas's hand, the ends dripping with blood, as he drops it to the ground. I'm keenly aware of our prey's body at our feet as Silas pulls out his thick cock and guides it between my thighs. I reach down, rubbing the head of his cock along my slick folds before he thrusts into me.

"You want it hard, don't you?" His voice is low and rough, his breath hot against my neck. "You want to feel my power."

I nod, my breath catching as he fills me in one deep stroke. "Yes."

"It turns you on," he grunts, his eyes never leaving mine. "Watching me take a life."

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