Her head tilted up in defiance coupled with the tentative hope that I could achieve what I’d promised. That when I took her, it wouldn’t be rape but entirely consensual and mutually enjoyed.
Ducking underwater, she vanished.
I didn’t panic, counting the wet thuds of my heart in the eardrum created by the sea. A few moments later her head broke the surface by the Phantom.
Grabbing the bottom ladder rung, she hauled herself from the depths and shimmied up the side of my yacht—broken hand and all.
Fuck, what a woman.
Her naked ass as she climbed was as perfect and inviting as the moon.
WHAT THE HELL is he doing?
What the hell am I doing?
What the hell happened to me last night?
First, I’d jumped off the damn yacht.
Second, I didn’t shut down when he gathered me against his wet, naked body.
Third, I didn’t blush when he spoke about sex and coming.
And fourth…and this was the worst one…
Fourth, when he’d pulled me close as if to kiss me, I’d wanted him to. For a split second, I forgot how much I hated sex and remembered how good he’d made me feel at the white mansion.
I wanted to feel that again.
I wanted to feel that way all the time because then I wouldn’t have to feel everything else. Every bruise. Every bone. I could…forget.
But then he’d pulled away and growled rules and regulations—warning me I wasn’t a slave he wanted, yet he wanted the woman I could become.
Only…I don’t know who that is.
All I knew was that while in his care, I’d had the gift of sunshine and travel and wind. I’d wished upon stars not hidden behind glass, and my skin became honey-kissed from being outside rather than pasty, sickly white.
I wasn’t stupid.
Every gift would have to be paid back. I just expected him to demand payment now—while I was still subservient and very aware of my place as a pleasure toy. Why would he want me to be any different?
If he let me continue gluing my shattered pieces together, I’d be like normal women.
I’d have opinions and rules of my own. I might not let him sleep with me. Was that what he wanted? The challenge? The chase? A girl to fight him rather than a slave to submit?
But why?
If he wanted a relationship, why hadn’t he met someone in a bar, or however free people met these days? Why me? Why piss off my dead owner for one night with me—with the intention of fucking me with force, only to let me sleep unmolested then bring me back to life?
It doesn’t make any sense!
I clutched my head.
Stop it. Focus on the present, remember. The future does not matter. It can’t matter. Not when you have no control over it.
Breathing hard, my fingers slipped from my skull to my lap.
Whatever Elder’s end game was, I had to admit, he’d started something between us that terrified me. Whenever he was around, my insides twisted and liquefied. Mostly from intense awareness in case he snapped, but partly due to that damn kiss between us.
What had he done? How did he switch the frigid ice in my blood to a cosy fire?
I didn’t know, and as much as I tugged on teenage memories of chatting with girlfriends about which pop stars got us wet and what fantasies made us hot, I still struggled with hating sex.
I shouldn’t want sex.
I didn’t want sex.
But Elder…he was different.
I want him.
Not in the physical sense, but his disappearance the past few days had shown me I wanted to be near him. He terrified me, yes. But he terrified other people too, and while he was around, I was safe.
Aren’t I?
Am I safe?
Oh, my God. Stop.
Maybe I should’ve kissed him last night?
Perhaps, I should’ve closed the distance between us and took what he wouldn’t.
But why would you do that?
Because I’d treated him with suspicion and rage? I didn’t trust him or his word but it didn’t mean I shouldn’t apologise.
So your kiss would’ve been a charity?
Yes.
No.
Ugh, I don’t know.
It would’ve been a token of my gratitude. A kiss—no matter how chaste or half-hearted—was an agreement that I trusted him enough to get close, press my mouth to his, and let him hold me.
He could so easily have pulled my hair, forced me to speak—drowned me, for all he cared.
But he didn’t.
He’d held me safe with no pressure, even though his erection pressed against my belly, hard and throbbing with things I wasn’t strong enough to survive.
Unable to withstand my colliding thoughts, I whipped out the notepad and pen.
Dear No One,
Is this my life now? Riddled with questions and doubt?
I thought the moment I was away from Alrik, things would be easier, not harder—
A loud clunking noise wrenched my head up.
My heart donned her sneakers and took off sprinting. I dropped the pen as a lifetime of worry and self-preservation kicked in, expecting the worst. Whatever progress Elder had made with me was deleted with that one sharp bang.
Alrik’s face sprang into my head, laughing and cruel.
It took all my willpower to stay seated on my bed and not hurl myself to the floor and my knees.
It came again—clunk, clunk, clunk.
Clutching the sheet, doing my best not to slip into a panic attack, I glanced around the room. There was no tyrant ready to beat me, no werewolf in the shadows.
Wait…
I tilted my head.