Page 12 of Reckless

I didn't notice the dark figure until it was too late.

Hands slammed across my mouth, and I yelped as the figure grabbed me and shoved me past closed doors.

“Who are you?” a male voice growled in my ear. I squirmed against the body trapping me, a muffled grunt slipping past my lips. If the man wanted me to answer so badly, he could at least have the decency to remove his palm from my goddamn mouth. Seeming to notice the complication of our current position, the man removed his hands, instead choosing to place them around my wrists like chains.

“Who are you?” I spat. A knee-jerk reaction to this man's bad manners and intoxicating cologne. The scent held me capture almost as much as his hands. A deadly mixture of spices and musk.

No man should be allowed to smell this good. It should be illegal on the basis of how unfairly it was distracting my brain cells' ability to function.

“I’ll be the one asking the questions, Blondie.” I stumbled as he led me farther into the room, jerking back as my knees hit what felt like a bed. Spreading me across the silk comforter, my captor leaned over me, eyes assessing me with cold acknowledgment and what could only be described as dry amusement.

“And does this position help you better understand my answers?” I quipped, my patience unraveling like string. The man only laughed again, trapping my wrists above my head, and I watched as he lowered his mouth to mine.

“Wouldn't want you getting away now, would we?” The words whispered over my lips, sending a shiver down my spine, and for a moment I’m grateful for the darkness. If only for the fact that it hides my maddening blush.

“How did you find this place?” The question rippled across my face, his warm breath teasing me. I thought back to the journal. My hands instinctively reached for the pocket in my leather jacket only to be stopped as strong palms tightened their grip on my wrists, halting my movements.

“Tsk tsk, Blondie, I thought you were smarter than that. You won't be able to get out of this that easily.” His lips graced the shell of my ear,

“Better for you to start spilling all your secrets.” His chest pressed fully against me then, stealing my breath, “Otherwise, things may get messy.”

It was so dark. The pitch-black making me even more aware of his movements. His rough hands grasping my wrists. The slight pressure from his chest hovering above mine.

The dark emphasized every touch. Sending a wave of awareness through me I couldn’t ignore.

“You want to know a secret, Blondie?” he continued, his lips so close now I would only have to shift my head and they would be upon me,

“I hate messes. Despise them. And just as a little heads up I’ve already cleaned one too many messes this week.” His voice trailed off as his fingers tapped up and down my arms,

“Wouldn't want to add a face as innocent as yours to the list, now would we?” It was so dark I couldn’t make out the features on his face. Only his eyes haunted me, dark as night as they stared down at me.

“I want to see your face.” I’m not sure where the statement came from. Maybe some sick twisted part of me wanted to see the monster before me. To prove that he was real. Because if he was real, then I could break him.

Shatter him.

Crack him open like a snowglobe and watch the pieces fall.

He laughed, the sound filling the dark space.

“Someone's fiery tonight.” His palm comes down to rest upon my breast, teasing the nipple through the fabric.

I squirmed against him.

“If I show you my face, will that loosen your pretty lips?” An involuntary moan escaped me as his fingers close in on my nipple, pinching it sharply before rubbing away the sting.

“Usually, I recommend vodka,” I snapped, my breathless voice betraying me, “But I guess your face will have to do. Short notice and all that.” Even though it was dark, I could have sworn I felt my captor smile as he reached behind him, a black Zippo appearing in his palms.

Mesmerized, I kept my gaze on it as he flipped open the top, a tiny flame illuminating the space between our bodies. The light chases away the darkness. Highlighting both our faces in perfect clarity, and my heart stopped. My whole body tensing.

It was him.

The stranger from the red room. The dark prince who had lounged as if he were on a throne, the two girls casually sprawled across his lap forever burned into my mind. They had tended to him like he owned them. Like they belonged to him.

And I watched. Fascinated with how much power one man could possess, how much control.

Surprisingly, the twisted king looked younger up close, with black hair tumbling in unruly waves across his forehead as if the very strands couldn't bother to stay still. His eyes looked softer too. More amused than cold as they continued to stare down at me. A dangerous half-smile splitting his lips in two, the corner of his mouth favoring his left cheek.

I was pinned beneath him, struggling against his palms, and the man was smiling at me.

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