Stalking the Dancer || 18+

Part Seven - Damsel

His mouth is on mine before I can think better of letting him take me... again. 

I keep finding myself in these situations, doing things I've begged hundreds of horror movie damsels not to do. I can't recall the last time I allowed myself to be this reckless. Letting my body react to his is much easier than fighting it. I'm supposed to hurt him, not let his tongue tangle with mine. I should pull away instead of pulling him closer, but my head is in the clouds and my core is resting on the thigh he's forced between my legs. I don't remember backing up against the wall, either.

My cast lifts from the floor as his thigh grinds against me slowly, a stark contrast to the desperately brutal kiss we're locked in—the friction he's offering lights my nerves on fire even if the pace is maddening. 

The distinct click of a knife flicking open drags me back to reality faster than my hands can find his chest to push him away. He holds his ground despite my resistance but breaks our mouths apart with a deep grunt. 

"Get the fuck off of me," I pant out feebly, pushing repeatedly against him with my palms. His hard muscles ripple under my hands and I can feel the rise and fall of his rapid breath. 

I feel his left hand wrap around my throat, I can picture the inked knuckles constricting around my neck as I feel it happening. My mouth falls open and I fail to force out a sound, instead, I'm startled at the cold tip of the blade drag across my cheek. My heart is beating in my throat, throbbing beneath his grip that loosens just enough to let me draw in slow, uneasy breaths.

His head falls to the side, peering at me like I've just confused him. "You look too good this way, see?" His hand lazily pulls the knife from my cheek, using it to point at something to our left. When I don't turn my head, he slides his fingers up to my jaw before turning it himself. A very pink flustered me stares back, wavy curls wild against the wall, and a thick, muscular thigh between my legs. The full-length mirror is fixed to the wall q 

I'm sure he feels my breathing increase, maybe he can even feel my pulse thrumming in the side of my neck, but his face hides any and every thought that may be crossing his mind at my reaction to our position. 

"Should we stay here until Ray gets home? Show 'im you're not that scared of me after all," he drives his leg upward, grinding back and forth at a building pace against my most sensitive bundle of nerves. The pressure is good enough to send my eyes rolling to the back of my head, robbing my brain of any logic I have left. My mouth falls open and my jaw hits his hand, reminding me just how much control he has right now. 

"I don't think he'll care much," I rasp breathily through his light hold on my throat. For some reason, he scoffs at that. He doesn't leave me wondering for long, "He put you on his bike, in his fuckin' helmet. Took you from me like you were his." I feel his anger in the way he holds my body firmly against his, trapped between the wall and a man made of stone. I take in the lines of his face for a moment, the creases between his eyebrows and the crinkles near his eyes show hints of his age. I wonder how old he is.

"It was his girlfriend's helmet," I mutter after thinking through what he said. "What?" His big hand leaves my throat to find my cheek, holding my face gently. "The helmet wasn't his, he bought it for his girlfriend." 

"How do you know that?" His brown eyes are deep and scary, the way he looks at me makes my heart race. "I asked him," I shrug my shoulders at him. Something about that answer must soothe whatever beast lives inside of him because his thumb starts stroking my cheek and I can see his questioning look turning softer. 

"Doe, tell me you're mine." 

It came out of nowhere, but that's how this man seems to work. His brain is a web I can't navigate. "I don't know you!" I shout at him, maybe I've got a death wish, maybe I want to see what he'll do at my defiance. It doesn't seem to occur to him that perhaps I don't want this.

His knee lowers me back to the floor slowly, my cast softly thumping on the ground. His dark eyes don't falter at my words, their intensity stays the same as he looks through me, "Get to know me, then." 

I feel my knees start to shake, my muscles have been getting weaker since my accident, the damn things. Before I can protest I'm cradled in Billy's arms as he walks us toward the bed in the center of the small guest room. He sits on the edge of the mattress before settling me on his lap as if it's the most normal thing in the world. Like we've done it a million times before. 

"Why am I here, Billy?" 

"Because I need you to be with me, I'll keep you safe." His voice is quiet and I can feel it rumble through my bones. "I can keep myself safe." He chuckles at that, "Damn right you can. Maybe I'm just a selfish fucker, I dunno." My heart is pounding out of my chest, it has been since I heard him walk through the front door, yet he's completely relaxed in our position. "I'm not claiming to be a good man, Doe, but I can be a good man for you."

"And I should believe that?" 

"Prolly not," He gives me a boyish smile like he just can't help reaching into the cookie jar for more. ", but I can prove it to ya. Come stay with me tonight." I can't stop the laughter that bubbles up in my chest before it escapes me. "You think I'd... stay with you?" I'm shaking in giggles at the absurdity of my life, it's all just too much. "You're crazy!"

"Now, why's that so farfetched?" I don't know if I've ever met a man so out of touch, which is saying something. "You stalked me, broke into my apartment, and stole from me!" I'm wriggling to get off of his lap but his hands hold my hips to thighs. "About the stealing thing," I gasp in his face, "You brought it back?" I ask hopefully. His smile tells me everything I need to know, but he still confirms with a nod. "Well, cough it up!" I'm holding out my hand as if he has it on his person or something. He shifts to lift a leg before pulling my vibrator out of his back pocket, of course he did. 

I reach to snag it from him but his iron grip holds onto it as I pull. "On one condition, Doe." My heart drops to my stomach at that. He plays very dirty and I doubt he'll stop now. "Use it. Show me how you did it that night, I wanna see up close." His husky voice is enough to send shockwaves to my core and I nod my head in agreement before I even process his directions. 

I don't know why he does this to my brain, he's just so trustworthy. A logical part of me knows that Ted Bundy had also seemed like a reliable guy, and we know how that ended. I need to trust my gut. 

"Later?" I don't know how my voice is coming out steadily but thank god for it. He rewards my answer with both of his dimples, flashing his beautiful teeth at me just like he did in the alley behind my apartment building. Something about the look in his eye or the lack of flowing blood makes this situation feel so different. How can two people be so volatile and comfortable at the same time?

"Later works, little Doe. I do need something from you right now, though." Just when I thought I could relax in his arms he starts barking orders again. He chuckles at my immediate groan, so he continues to talk. 

"You were gone for a few weeks, can you tell me where you went?" 

"Why do you act like you've got a right to know my business?" I cock an eyebrow at him and cross my arms over my chest, waiting for his bullshit reasoning. "I looked for ya, couldn't find you anywhere." 

He looked for me? Does that mean...

"Did you break in while I was gone?" My tone is questioning but I can't help letting my guard up at the realization that this has been a bad habit of his for longer than I know. His chocolate eyes are honest when he shakes his head and, for some reason, I'm inclined to believe him.