Page 15 of Psycho

CHAPTER TEN

PSYCHO

I could’ve brought her to the back of the house, and directly to the basement, but it’s better this way. Going from the surroundings of a beautiful house, to what my brother calls my torture chamber, is jarring. It will heighten her fear and, at this moment, I want that more than anything. We walk through my collection of cars, and turn a corner. Her expression shows her curiosity, as I enter the code to get into my favorite place. The doors slide open, and I yank her through the doorway, before it closes behind us automatically. She glances behind her, and realizes there’s no escape. Turning back to the room, she looks around, taking it all in. The metal tables with restraints, the drains on the floor, a cage I don’t use very often, and a St Andrew’s Cross, bought just for my little lamb. The moment I saw her picture, I wanted to tie her up, and now I’m moments away from realizing that fantasy.

“Get undressed.”

Tilting her head to the side, she flashes me a ‘fuck you’ look, and I don’t hate it. Fuck, I think I like it.

“No.”

This is not about sex, it’s about pain that she fucking owes me, but my dick is hard as a rock for her again. Her defiance means a fight, and that’s my favorite thing. I step closer to her, and she raises her tiny fists.

“No.”

I can’t help the grin that overtakes my face.

“Yes,” I say, with a narrowed gaze. This is not optional.

Pulling her fist back, she hits me in the chest, hard. I chuckle when she starts jumping up and down, while holding her right fist in her left hand.

“Motherfucker. You asshole.”

I arch an eyebrow at her, but I’m not pissed. I’m fucking entertained.

“You hit me and I’m the asshole?”

“I was protecting myself.”

As I move closer to her, she steps back frantically, until she hits the wall. I can hardly wait for her to find out that, behind her head, sits my collection of blades. Once she can’t go any further, I wrap my hand around her throat, while I retrieve my favorite knife from my pocket. My brothers make fun of me, but I have an emotional attachment to this knife. It was custom made for me, and cuts through almost fucking anything.

“Is that what you’re doing, little lamb? Protecting yourself?”

Her heart rate, and breathing, both pick up at the same time, as she glares at me. This woman is fucking fascinating. Anybody else would have tears streaming down their face, but not her. She stands strong, even though I know she’s terrified. Her heartbeat betrays her, as does the trembling of her bottom lip. The same goddamn lip I want to suck into my mouth, and bite, until it bleeds.

Standing over her, I jerk my chin down, my gaze connecting with hers, as I take in the fire in her eyes. The same one I’ll destroy. Tracing my thumb over her bottom lip, I speak low, and stifle a groan as her breath brushes over my skin.

“Last chance, little lamb. Would you like to take your clothes off on your own? Or do you prefer I cut them from your body? I will warn you, when I get angry, I get careless with my knife.”

“I’ll do it,” she whispers, and I step away from her, to give her room to get undressed.

She pulls her black t-shirt over her head, and angrily throws it on the ground.

“You’re insane. You know that, right?”

I shake my head no, because she’s wrong; I am many things, but my sanity is intact.

“I’m not insane. I’m a psycho. Maybe look up the difference.”

She unbuttons her pants and pulls them off, as she continues her pointless argument.

“Insane means a state of mind that prevents normal perception, behavior, or social interaction. Or,” she waves her hand in the air, while standing in a pink bra and matching panties, “severely mentally ill. I believe this situation describes it well.”

“Psycho, not insane.”

She rolls her eyes at me like I’m an idiot, and I stop myself from cutting her throat right now. The temptation is intense, but I have bigger plans for her.

Patience, Psycho. You’ll get there.

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