Page 2 of His Gift
Chances are he's a psycho but damn, he knows how to fuck.
two
Harper
With each passing moment, I let myself go. I accept his tenderness, letting it steady me. Helping me focus.
"Good. Relax. I'll answer your questions. I know you have many. But you must stay calm and be respectful. Can you do that, my gift?"
"Yes, I can."What other choice do I have?
"Good. I knew you were perfect for me. Now, what do you wantto know?"
Questions pile up in my mind. But he lied to me before. I want to check if he'll keep doing so. It will make a lot of difference.
"Youtrulydidn't give me anything?"
"I did. I tweaked ketamine to keep at bay all the nasty effects and take advantage of the good ones, like enhanced neuroplasticity and antidepressant properties. A little something to help your body follow its natural instincts. As I said, I took care of you. I wouldn't want you waking up stressed and scared. It was much better this way, wasn't it?"
"Yes, it was." It was. It's also crazy. Scary. Yeah, I guess I'm starting to get scared. Not enough, though. Not as much as I should. "Are you a biochemist?"
"Yes. I've created biomedical products that sold well and granted me the chance to retire here. I don't like people. Making enough money to isolate myself was my goal from the start. But… I always knew there was someone destined for me out there. So I kept searching. I forced myself to endure other people more than I had to and finally I found you. My gift. My perfect girl."
Wow. That's insane. He's not withdrawing information, though, so maybe…
"Where are we?"
"You don't need to know that just yet. All you need to know is that it's safe, and you'll lack nothing. You won't betray me, will you?"
My breath catches. Is he asking me if I'll try to run? Is he so delusional?
I turn around, our eyes lock, and I finally get a good look. Very serious, very dark eyes. Longish, sandy blond hair. Full lips, firm jaw. Greek nose.
"Who are you?"Who is he?And why do I truly want to know?
"Your present and your future. Sadly, not your past, but everything you did led you to me, so…"
"How much do you know about me?" He keeps caressing my face while I bombard him with questions. Completely relaxed. Not bothered at all. As if we're lovers and this is just us cuddling after sex.Well, I guess in a way it is.
"Everything there is to know."
"Where did you meet me?" I've kept studying his face. I don't remember him. He's older than me. In his forties. But I think I'd have noticed him: he is a beautiful man. Not that I've had much time to notice men lately, beautiful or otherwise.
"At a coffee shop. You were clearly late, a little disheveled. Exasperated. And so fucking cute."
He's describing most of my mornings, so it's not much help. But my attention is wandering, whatever drug he gave me taking over again. That and his fingers sliding gently over my skin. Sensual, feather-light, tender movements, as if he knows me so well he's just retracing my form to rediscover it.
"How long will it last? The thing you gave me?"
"A little bit longer. We need to get to know each other. You need to accept me. It will be easier this way."
His hand wanders over my arm, dragging the sheets down. I'm naked, of course. And he has seen me pretty well already. Damn, he's already fucked me twice. But I can't avoid blushing when his eyes follow his hand's path.
What the hell do I do? Because this is leading to another session of brain-melting sex. And my body wants it. More than my next breath, actually. Can I stop it? Will he get aggressive if I try to talk my way out of this? Will he even listen? He's so removed from reality…
"What's wrong?"
Removed from reality and yet perceptive. Deep down, he must know this is insane. Could I use that? It's worth a try.
