Page 24 of As Devils Love

Where else would I go? I can’t leave Mrs. Walker alone, if there really is a crazy man outside.

He pulls on his pistol’s slide and checks the chamber for a bullet. When he is satisfied, Tomas grabs his phone and makes a call. They answer quickly. “Yeah, looks like we’ve got something. Meet me outside for a sweep.”

He hangs up his phone and leaves.

I’m stuck in place for the first few minutes. I stare out of the giant windows in the hope of seeing my father’s men bring down the monster who is plaguing me. But as the intense adrenaline starts to fade, I decide it’s best to let them work while I do the same. Idle hands are a devil’s plaything, and I’ve got Mrs. Walker to keep mine busy.

I head into my workshop and grab my measuring tape and a few other tools I might need to properly measure her up.

“Mrs. Walker, is everything alright?” I ask, returning to the fitting room hall.

She mumbles something inside her room before answering me. “Splendid, dear. I’ll be with you shortly. My daughter called, and I’m going to finish up beforehand.”

“Take all the time you nee—” Before I can finish, an arm reaches out from a different fitting room and pulls me inside it.

While one arm pulls me firmly against his frame, his other hand wraps around my mouth before I can scream. It won’t stop me from trying, but the muffled noises coming from my mouth don’t get far against his thick leather glove.

“Keep that up,” he pins me against his chest with the hand clasping my mouth, while the other drops to his waist. “And I’ll have to silence you for good.” His free hand returns with a silver blade in it, and he holds steadily against my neck.

My heart begins to race out of control. I hold my breath, to stop myself from screaming, or crying for that matter. But in the initial struggle to calm myself down, I haven’t paid attention to the mirror he’s holding me in front of.

Suddenly my weeks of doubt and belief vanish.

It’s him. It’s the man I’ve seen all around New York. The man who was just outside.

My snake-eyed stalker, in the flesh.

I’d laugh at the irony of sending my guard outside, just to get caught anyway, if I wasn’t afraid my frantic hysterics would mean feeling the sting of his blade. He doesn’t make a sound while he inspects me in the mirror with a cold, calculated gaze that travels from my face to my feet, lingering particularly long on my chest when he returns.

My cheeks start to burn when I notice him leering.

I’m blushing while this monster wants to kill me.

I wasn’t just seeing things, but I’ve definitely lost my mind.

“Why didn’t you tell them about me?” His voice is a harsh whisper in my ear.

My reply against his hand is a garbled mess of sound. Realizing I can’t answer his question while he has me contained, the predator pinning me against his body groans so intensely that the sound reverberates through my entire body.

“Make a single sound out of place and I willgut you, herein your fancy fitting room,” he snarls viciously.

I nod my head against his palm, and he slowly lowers it. Instead of pulling it away though, he slides it down my cheek, neck and chest, until his thumb hooks the front of my white, with red flowers, summer dress. He pulls the front down to expose more of my cleavage.

I shouldn’t find this so hot. The way he threatens me with his words, but everything else about him can’t seem to get enough of me and my body.

“I saw you in the soup kitchen. Saw your dog, too.” Is Tomas thedoghe’s referring to? “He didn’t bat an eyelid when I walked in. So, you didn’t tell them anything. Why not?”

“Because I didn’t know what to say.” I answer his question so quietly, I can barely hear myself. But it’s the truth, all the same. It seems impossible to believe, yet here we are with everything that made me feel insane becoming true.

From this close up, I can tell he’s handsome beneath his biker mask. His razor-sharp jawline cuts through the fabric and ends in a strong chin. His shimmering green eyes, which have haunted my dreams and twisted my fantasies, remain as entrancing as ever.

Before he can respond again, I notice something surprising – a look of reluctance in his otherwise stoic eyes. I alsofeelsomething unexpected. Instead of his sharp knife stabbing into me, the familiar jab of his weighty cock slams against my spine.

There’s no reason to believe his erection isn’t from some sick perversion that stems from enjoying killing. This might be a part of his ritual, and where I’m enjoying his touch and the way he stares at my body, my stalker could be using it as fuel to finish the job.

“Or did you notwantthem to know?” He pulls the front of my dress down further, until one shoulder strap snaps against my shoulder and the other slips down my arm.

His violent tugging doesn’t end until the neckline of my dress is below my breasts, and his hungry gaze is aimed directly at my sheer, white, nylon bra. A satisfied growl comes from his throat, as his hand moves up once more.

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