Page 12 of The Heart of Midnight

Slowly, he slides out of me, and I feel ridiculously cold knowing he’s about to leave me. I need him to stay, and I need him to do it without me asking. I close my eyes, staying still as I hear him move around my bedroom, and then suddenly I hear my bath water turn on. It startles me enough to have me sitting up to peek at the bathroom door. “Midnight?”

My gaze darts to the camera I know is there, and I immediately have to fight the urge to check the feed and see if he took his mask off at any point. I can’t do that while he’s still here, yet I don’t want him to leave.

What a mindfuck.

When he joins me again, his movements are slow, almost unsure. “Do you have ibuprofen or epsom salts? I couldn’t find any.”

“Ibuprofen, yes. It’s in the other bathroom, but I don’t have epsom salts.”

I sit up a little more and feel his cum drip out of me, making me squirm, but I’m afraid to move as he walks out of my bedroom and I hear his heavy footsteps on the floor.

Using those, I track him through the house and hear him stop in the hall bathroom, then the kitchen. He comes back with aglass of water and the bottle of ibuprofen I keep in the medicine cabinet. “How many do you normally take?”

“Two,” I respond warily, holding my hand out for them as I eye the man who was just ripping my asshole open like he didn’t care if I lived or died. He seems to care now. “You should drink some water too.”

I take a few gulps to swallow the pills down and then hand him the glass expectantly, but he doesn’t take it.

“I’m okay. Can you walk?”

“Take it,” I demand, standing to press it into his chest. “Please?”

Carefully, he reaches out with his gloved hand and holds the glass above his mouth, not letting the rim touch his lips as he drinks — and it occurs to me it’s because he doesn’t want any additional traces of his DNA laying around.

It makes me snort, causing more cum to drip down my thighs so I reach down and run my fingers through it while I stare at him. “Will this help ease your mind?”

I bring those fingers to my mouth and lick them clean, then walk past him toward the bathroom, smirking when I hear the way he grunts. It’s the first time I’ve tasted his cum, and for some reason I immediately crave more. I love knowing I’m the reason this man came at all. Every drop is mine.

“Ease my mind about what?”

“DNA,” I call back, wiping myself clean before I climb into the bath and moan at how warm the water is. “That’s why you didn’t want to drink, right?”

It’s not lost on me that this is the longest conversation we’ve ever had, but the fucker is still disguising his voice. It doesn’t quite sound natural. “You’ve already threatened me once. Do you blame me?”

I shrug, running my fingers through the bubbles lazily like I’m not actually internally squealing about it. This man breaksinto my house to wreck me without my consent and yet he still thought to put bubbles in my bath? I almost wish I got up sooner to watch him do it. “It wasn’t a threat,” I repeat. “It was a promise, and you came back to me, so does it really even matter?”

I blink up at him innocently, wishing I could see his face behind the ski mask.

“Of course it matters. For all I know, you insisted I come back just to trap me.”

Is he frowning at me? I think he is. “Maybe I should,” I contemplate. “I should trap you in a cage so I can keep you all to myself. Maybe finally see the face behind the mask.”

I hate that I can’t see his damn eyes through the thin fabric that covers them, but I’m not sure he’s looking directly at me, anyway. His head is tilted like he’s trying to look anywhere else.

“You don’t want that, Avery. All it would do is hurt you more than you already have been.”

“You could at least let me see your hands,” I argue to lighten the mood. “I feel like they’re all veiny and strong. Can you palm a basketball?”

“I... haven’t tried since high school, but I could then.”

“Ugh. That’s why it’d hurt, you’re too hot to be allowed to walk around in the daylight, aren’t you?” I let my head fall back and keep my gaze locked on him, searching for any sign of the man underneath all that black.

I find nothing.

“No, that’s not why. Are you hungry?” he deflects.

I’m not really all that hungry, my ass hurts, but if he’s offering and willing to stay here a little longer I’m willing to fake it. He’s like a shadow moving around my house, and I fear one wrong move will make him disappear. “Sure.”

It’s clear from the way his head moves that he’s checking out the sight of my bubble-covered body, but he leaves without a word.

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