Page 6 of The Art of Obsession
“Everleigh Lennox,” his gravelly voice, commanding and dominant, pulls me back to the present.
“Wh-what?” I blink back more tears, flinching when he says, “You will fucking breathe when I tell you.”
He squeezes my throat again with his gloved hand, and suddenly, I’m thrashing against him.
“I can’t do that if you strangle me, you crazy asshole! Ugh!” I shriek from him pulling my hair so hard, my scalp howls. The next thing I know, he’s gripped my wrists at the small of my back, straining the muscles in my arms.
Another flashback smothers me.
“I’ll flunk you if you leave this room, Miss Lennox!” my professor barks at me, wiping the blood from his lip from where I scratched him.
Panicking, I rush for the door, struggling to unlock it. Bruises on my sides. I think he cracked my ribs. His hand comes down on my wrist, twisting it behind my back. It hurts! Stop! Let go! Take a deep breath. Thrust your head back. A sickening crack. Curses. Blood flowing from his nose.
A mouth crashes against mine, bringing me back. Powerful jaw commanding me. Tongue stabbing inside, exploring, taking. It’s not sloppy and dirty like that time. And it’s not sweet and romantic like my fiance.
My stalker’s kiss is dominant and demanding, determined to master me. He still holds my wrists, but now, he’s flattened them against the door on either side of me.
This guy is Fifty Shades of Trigger Warnings!
Why does he have to smell so mesmerizing? Hypnotizing me. Paralyzing me. More than any drug. An addiction of vetiver, aged leather, and black musk—the botanical kind made of plant resins, laudanum, and essential oils.
His muscles cage me, slabbed chest against mine, and I feel his thundering heartbeat.
I hate how I’m opening for him, losing the fight, and surrendering. His tongue decorates the inside of my mouth, tasting everything. He’s rattling my bones the deeper and stronger he kisses me, burning a firestorm in my veins. When I think of how his finger was inside me, my insides clench. I try to wish away the wetness forming, but my body betrays me. Something cracks inside me, and I…moan.
He pauses. Groans. It reverberates into my chest, and I swear I feel it in my lungs.
“Good girl,” he breathes against my lips.
Fuck. Why did he have to say that?
For the first time, I take him in, this…persona.
He’s a nightmare sculpted in silk and sin. The red suit clings to his broad, powerful frame like it’s in awe of him—tailored so perfectly, it’s obscene. The sharp angles of his double-breasted jacket, the midnight-black shirt beneath, and the subtle shimmer of the fabric scream danger and decadence.
I feel his eyes. Utterly black but for the pinprick of scarlet light in the center of his pupils. Contacts. But they bore intome all the same, stripping away my defenses, and I know—just know—he’s smiling beneath the mask. A dark, wicked smile that promises ruin.
His presence is suffocating in the best way…like being wrapped in the coils of a predator who’s too enthralled by you to strike.
This isn’t real, I think. I’m hallucinating, right? It wouldn’t be the first time. Whatever drug courses through my system makes everything fuzzy and tingles my skin.
He’s a character ripped from one of my darkest fantasies, the kind I shouldn’t admit to having. Tall, dark, and draped in blood-red power, he’s a Gothic erotic villain who’s stepped off the page to ruin my life. Or maybe save it.
The cape flares, framing him like a hellish god. His chest rises and falls slowly, steady despite the storm he’s igniting inside me. My mouth is dry, but my body is anything but.
I shouldn’t feel captivated.
A blush fills my cheeks, sweat sheens on my skin, and…oh, no, heat floods my center. When I try to turn to the side, something dark and rumbling leaves his throat. Like a growl. Oh, god, he better not be a vampire.
His polished black hair gleams, swept back with a few thick strands falling across his masked brow. Beneath the mask, his deeply hooded eyes pierce through me—so devastatingly intense, I swear they’re sending fire and ice into my heart.
“Look at me, Everleigh Lennox.”
He locks me in his gaze, but half of me sees through him, and the other half…
Stopitstopitstopit, Evie. Tall, dark, and stalker-y is not here to burn the world for you. He’s a poison.
Oooh, I’ll drink it every time,my inner smut reader coos.
