House of Venom

Damaris

DAMARIS MONROE

My fingers tremble around the trigger as I hold the gun to his temple. The metal feels cold against my skin, but my grip is so tight that my wrist starts to ache. I can feel the sweat forming on my forehead and trickling down my spine, and I swallow hard, trying to ignore the pounding of my heart.

I stare into his dark brown eyes, searching for any sign of fear or apprehension. But there is none. Instead, I see a strange intensity in those eyes, a burning passion that seems to consume him from within. It's as if he's daring me to pull the trigger, tempting me with his gaze.

"Now, start talking. Where's the brothel that these girls take you to?"

I press the gun harder against his temple, and his eyes flicker with something akin to pleasure. It's sickening, and yet it's also exhilarating. I feel a rush of power coursing through my veins, and I know that I could do anything in this moment.

As I hold my gaze on the stranger, his laughter echoes through the air, bouncing off the windows and filling the car. I can't help but stare at him in pure awe as he throws his head back, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth beneath those sweet lips. It's as if his laughter is contagious, and I can feel my lips twitching upwards in response.

I take in every inch of him, from the tips of his black hair to the tattoos that cover his whole body. There's something about him that's mesmerizing, that draws me in like a moth to a flame. It's not just his physical appearance, although his muscles and the veins that popped up on his arms are certainly impressive. No, it's the way that he keeps the intensity in those brown eyes even as he laughs, as if he's fully present in the moment.

"Oh, princess."

I let out a sigh of relief as the stranger turns to me again, hoping that he will say something to help my case. But instead of words, he whistles sharply. The sound echoes through the empty car, and for a moment, I wonder if he's lost his mind.

But then I hear a movement behind me, and I whip around just in time to see a huge dog charging toward me. Its teeth are bared, and its growls are low and menacing. I freeze in place, unable to move as the dog gets closer and closer.

But then the stranger turns to me, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. He places his palm on my thigh, and I feel goosebumps rise on my skin at the contact. There's something about him that's dangerous and alluring all at once, something that draws me in despite my better judgment.

"He doesn't bite until I tell him to."

In the blink of an eye, everything changes. The stranger moves so fast that it's almost a blur, grabbing the gun out of my hand and wrapping his arm around my neck. Suddenly, my head is on his lap, and I can feel the cold metal of the gun against my temple.

My whole body goes numb as I realize that I'm trapped in his embrace, helpless and at his mercy. And then, the engine roars to life, and he speeds out of the alleyway, the world outside a blur of motion and color. I can feel the stranger's grip on me tightening, his arm like a vise around my neck. And yet, even as fear courses through my veins, there's a part of me that's strangely exhilarated by the danger of it all.

"What the fuck? You're interfering with an FBI investigation!"

"You're interfering with my investigation."

The car swerves around a sharp turn, and the stranger's grip on me tightens. I can feel his body pressed against mine, his strong arms like steel bars holding me in place. I struggle to free myself, my mind racing with questions.

I try to squirm and kick, desperate to break free and reach for the gun hidden in my boot. But his arms are too strong, and I'm trapped, helpless, and at his mercy.