✔️ ILLICIT DESIRES | 18 +

Chapter 21

RITA

It must Be the Dead of the Night.

Every organism is sleeping, as if it's dead — ready to be consumed by Mother Nature. But not every organism stays intact with the routine of day and night. There is a rebel against Nature's resting time, as I hear footsteps.

I open my eyes, though the night still clings to me, and I see nothing but pitch black. My malfunction is my poor sight. I am night-blind.

The darkness is now a cruel reminder of my vulnerability. I can feature nothing. Reluctantly, I rise, my body moving sluggishly.

"Damn it," I whisper to myself, disoriented as I seek light in the encroaching dark. For just a fleeting moment, I believe I am home — in my botanical bedroom.

But when I touch the walls, I come in contact with cold surfaces instead of my Boston Ivy. The emptiness of the nightstand and the missing bedside lamp is just another reminder that I am in his domain.

Crinkling my brows, I wonder why he doesn't have a bedside lamp. Though, he didn't look enchanted when I armed myself with it back when he wanted to plant a metallic seed within me. Does he have a phobia of lamps? He looked haunted ...

Now, the pitch-black room haunts me, my night-blindness a cruel reminder of my vulnerability. I stumble through the dark like. I hear Mother Nature rebuking me for not being aware of my surroundings beforehand.

Yet, I cannot help it. The food he spoils me with softens me toward him. And he converses with me — be it taunts or insults — which I appreciate. Because I was very isolated from human interaction. I only communicated with my plants. And my mother.

But I must not forget — I cannot forget — who I am dealing with. The Devil's Hands. He can make me blossom in euphoria. He can ravish my nectar. He can roast my bum.

And he can strip me of my dignity as well. Like the time when he made me apologize to his hussy — Hoe. Or was it Jo? Whatever...

Lost in these tousled thoughts, I let out a sharp scream, my hands colliding with a solid and alive organism. Huge organism.

"Hell, my ears! Why the screaming?" Oh... it's him. He is back. And he sounds irritated. Always so grumpy.

"I'm sorry," I murmur, pressing a hand to my chest to calm my racing heart. "You startled me." I take an instinctive step back, but the darkness — my foe — works against me.

My foot catches on an unseen obstacle I cannot figure out, and I yelp, bracing for the inevitable fall. With Mother Nature on my side, I am clasped by arms that encircle me with sheer tenacity.

"Watch where you're going." he says, his voice gruff, bracing me in his solace instead of letting me hit the cold ground.

"I can't," I whisper. My hands find his chest, his warmth oddly comfortable in stark contrast to the cold dark. "I can't see in the dark." Yet, when I feel his breath close to my face, I get nervous.

Wait, really? How many fingers do I show you?" I feel his vile hand leave my waist, and a breeze blows toward my face. "Come on, I'm waiting."

"I said I'm night blind, how am I supposed to know?" I snap, indignation rising in me, as I wave my own hand toward my face to slap his hand away, which I can sense with his widdle.

"Wait," I mutter, lips pursed in the dark, draping his finger before my face with my hand in a monkey grasp. "Are you showing me your rotten finger?" I gasp, offended.

"Yeah... I thought you were night blind?" he asks with a chuckle , his lips breezing over mine. He is very close. His proximity heats me up.

"Are you stupid? Don't you see that I'm grasping it?" I tell him with a heavy heave, shaking his finger still in my monkey grasp, which feels long and thick, and I cannot help but flush as I reminisce them inside me.