Page 17 of Deranged and Obsessed Omnibus: Vol 1

I knew he’d been following me since that first time. Even though I hadn’t known how closely he’d been watching me, I always felt eyes on me, lingering, so I never felt truly alone.

The way I felt his presence, even when I couldn’t see him, was something that was almost… comforting.

I looked at him now, sprawled out on my bed, totally fucking out cold, and this rush of pleasure flowed through me. I tied his arms to the metal headboard railing with a length of rope I carefully knotted. He was huge—a solid wall of muscle—but I managed to get him into this very vulnerable position, with his sinewy arms trapped above his head. All on my own.

It was a powerful feeling.

Waiting for him to break in had been almost therapeutic. I knew what I wanted to do as soon as the front door had shut. I even left the chain lock undone to make this extra easy for him.

He’d been out for a couple of hours now, but I was in no rush. We had all night.

Finally, Roman stirred, groaning as he woke. His eyes fluttered open, dark and confused, and I leaned back in the chair I’d dragged close to the bed and smiled a little, watching him come to.

I loved the fact that he wasn’t used to being the one on the receiving end of this.

“You thought you were so clever,” I whispered when he was fully awake and staring me right in the eyes. I set the severed hand back on my dresser, that smile still playing on my lips. I reached out and let my fingers absently toy with the ribbon tied around the decomposing flesh.

The hand he’d given me, a twisted offering from a demon.

“I knew you were watching me. I saw you at the diner, felt you following me, and knew you were breaking into my apartment.” I didn’t admit I wasn’t fully aware until after he’d probably been doing it for a while.

He blinked slowly, his expression showing and telling me nothing. But the longer he stared at me, the more I saw something change. I saw the shift in his eyes, a flash of something darker.

But I wasn’t scared. I was… aroused.

I got off the chair and moved to the edge of the bed, sitting down beside him, the mattress dipping slightly, and the natural scent of Roman filling my nose and lungs. I ignored the tension that rippled through his big, bound body. And then he jerked violently, the rope keeping him in place, but his upper body coming off the mattress so his face was closer to mine.

We just stared at each other, and the way he inhaled so deeply that his nostrils flared made me feel a certain kind of way.

“Having you here, doing… these things,” I finally murmured, my voice distant as my mind wandered. I glanced at the hand, then at the now-empty syringe on the bedside table. Finally, I looked at the pocketknife I held. It was the one I cut him with in the alley—the one I dropped when I ran. He must have picked it up before stalking me, then breaking and entering. I looked back at Roman. “They weren’t good to me, you know. They made my life hell.”

Roman said nothing. Maybe he was still trying to figure out how we ended up here, how I’d flipped the game he thoughthewas playing. But I didn’t care about any of that. I’d told no one my secrets. But that changed tonight. Because as I looked into Roman’s dark eyes, I knew if anyone could understand me wholly, it would be this man.

“And because they were bad people,” I continued, and I kept my voice calm, “they hurt me in ways no one should hurt a child.” I swallowed the lump that suddenly formed in my throat. “And I couldn’t take it anymore.” My mind wandered to that night again… the night everything changed. “I had to end the cycle. I had to make sure no one else got hurt. So, I took care of it.”

I heard Roman start breathing harder, faster. His pupils dilated impossibly further, and he kept straining against the ropes, my knots holding firm.

“Tell me,” he said deeply, low, but there was a groan in his voice that was unmistakable. He was… turned on.

“While they slept,” I whispered. “I set the house on fire.” I could picture that little shack of a home in my mind, could see the flames and feel the heat. “I watched it burn from the front yard, standing there barefoot in the grass in my pajamas, and feeling so free.”

He said nothing, but his expression told me all I needed to know. Roman saw the darkness in me now, the same kind I saw in him.

“I had to end the cycle,” I whispered, more repeating it to myself than to him. “There was no other way.” I lifted the pocketknife. “This was my father’s. He used to threaten me with it.” I squeezed my fingers around the handle and gritted my teeth. “He used to cut me with it.”

The sound of Roman growling was loud, animalistic, and so very primal.

He strained again, clearly trying to free himself and get to me. I glanced at the knots on his wrists, admiring my handiwork. They were tight, perfect. “My father showed me how to do nautical knots,” I said absently. “It was the only fucking thing that piece of shit taught me.”

I turned the knife over in my hands, feeling its slight weight, watching how the moonlight caught the edge of the blade. I leaned in close so we shared the same air, so that if I wanted to, I could have kissed him. And then I told him what I knew.

“But I found myself in the same situation with my one and only boyfriend.” I got angry as I thought about how I’d been abused all over again years ago. “I could finally break free. I got myself healthy and tried to find him… to end the cycle, just like I had with my parents.” I slowly lifted my gaze to Roman’s again. “But I wasn’t able to find him… yet.”

He was breathing so hard now, like he could barely control himself.

It brought me back to the present. “I know what you’ve been doing,” I whispered, my lips inches from his ear. “I know you’ve been taking out your cock while I sleep and jerking off over me. You’ve been doing twisted, disgusting things to me while I slept.”

He bared his teeth, but I knew it was because he wanted me so damn badly. It was the same intensity in need and fucked-up desire that I wanted him.

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