Repentance (The Darkness Series Book 4) (7 page)

“Oh, my fuck. Jesus. Jesus, Sam,” she babbled as he kept up his assault.  She tasted so good on his tongue, her sweetness was intoxicating.  Sucking her hard nub into his mouth, he inserted two fingers and nearly blew his load feeling how tight and warm she was.  Her hands were in his hair, digging into his skull as he pumped his fingers in and out, loving the feeling of her juices coating him.

“You taste fucking amazing, Emma,” he mumbled against her. The words were barely out before she went off, her orgasm forcing a scream out of her throat.  Her loss of control snapped something inside him and he pulled away from her pussy to look down into her eyes.  She was flushed and dazed, still glowing in the after effects of her climax. In that moment, she was
his.
Ripe for the taking and willing to do whatever he desired.

The darkness fought to be released; to be reborn and given a new purpose.  His hands trailed through her thick hair and wrapped around her slim throat like tentacles, his fingers morphing into one as he slowly pressed down on her windpipe.  He thrust his hips against hers roughly, the sickness inside him rejoicing in the fear in her bright blue eyes.  “I’m going to fuck you now, Emma. I’m going to fuck you and I’m going to hurt you. I
need
to hurt you. But I promise, you’re going to love every fucking second of it.”

Without waiting for an answer, he pulled a condom out from his back pocket and rolled it on. Emma’s eyes were bright with excitement as she took in the length of him, overshadowing the fear his words had put there.  With one powerful thrust, he filled her, burying himself deep.

“Fuck,” he groaned, feeling her pussy walls grip him.  She was so damn tight.  Pulling back, he slammed back in again, relishing in the feel of her warm, wet heat.  His hands found her throat again and he squeezed, unable to resist mixing a little pain with the pleasure.

Emma had heard of “choking out” during sex before, but she’d never experienced it. The way Sam was pounding into her, with his hands tightening and loosening with each thrust; it was a massive turn on.  His eyes had turned a dark, black onyx and bore into hers, searing their connection with his hot gaze.  He bent his head and bit down on her nipple tugging it taut until she arched her back, loving the sinful torture he was inflicting on her.

He pulled back and flipped her over, grabbing her ass and lifting it in the air before driving himself back inside her, groaning as her pussy engulfed his cock once more.  He could feel her shock at his actions, but he couldn’t stop; he needed to possess every inch of her, claim her as his and his only.  Grabbing her hip, he steadied himself and then brought his other hand down over her ass in a stinging slap.  Her body jerked forward at the contact and she cried out, surprised.  He repeated the same action over and over, loving the way her ass pinked up for him with the imprint of his hand.  She was fucking perfect.

“Sam,” she panted.  “Fuck, you feel good.” Her breathy voice and the way she was taking all he was giving her had his release building as he increased the pace of his thrusts.  Sliding his hand between their slick bodies, he found her clit and tugged, smiling when she moaned out his name again.  He could feel her thighs clenching together and knew she was close to her release again.

“Cum for me, baby.  I want those juices coating my cock,” he told her.  She began to push backwards, meeting him thrust for thrust and then left out a low scream as she exploded in ecstasy.  Sam wasn’t too far behind, his fingers digging into her tender flesh as he pumped out his own orgasm.

They lay there spent for a few moments, neither able to move.  Sam got up first to discard the condom and came back with some tissues for Emma.  After righting their clothes, Emma stood awkwardly and stared at him.  If possible, he looked even sexier than before; his hair tousled and his cocky grin taking up half his face.  It was no wonder she was starting to fall for him.

She accepted him.

Even though she shouldn’t.

She wanted him.

Even though he was the wrong choice.  Her heart was no longer hers; she’d handed it over to him free and clear.  Now she just had to tell him.  He kissed her hard on the mouth once and they moved away from the work bench.  Stooping he picked up a manila envelope from the pile of scattered papers Emma had dropped earlier.  “What’s this?” he asked.

Emma glanced at it and shrugged.  “I’m not sure.  It doesn’t look like I’ve opened it yet…it must have gotten mixed in with that filing.”

Sam tore it open and shook out the contents.  Two 5x7 photographs tipped out into his waiting hand, the images making his blood run cold.  Both were of Emma—one of her smiling and walking through the town with another female and the second of her completely naked as she stood in what he assumed was the bathroom in her home.  Written across that photo in black magic marker was a chilling message.
“Soon, my love.”

Impatient, Emma peered over his shoulder to see what he’d found that was causing him to make that face and gasped out loud when she was the pictures.

“Who took those?!  Where did you get them?” she demanded, pinning him with an accusatory glare.

“Emma, the envelope is addressed to you.  No sender information.” He flipped it over to show her.  A sick feeling of dread tingled over her skin as she stared at the images she’d taken from Sam.  Nothing about something like this was good news at all.

“The murders…in town.  Do you think—do you think these are a message from him?” Emma asked, fearful for his answer.

“If I had to guess, I’d say yes.  You fit the profile of the victims…I didn’t notice that until now,” Sam frowned at her, uneasiness setting in.

Emma stuffed the photos back in the envelope and headed for the door.  “Um, I’m going to come in late in the morning if that’s okay, I better report these photos down at the station.  I’d go now, but I really just want to go home and check things out.  I feel so…violated that he’s been watching me like this.”

“You’re not going anywhere by yourself right now.  I won’t allow it, Emma.”  He crossed his arms over his chest, showing her he meant business.

“You won’t allow it?” she repeated.  Who did he think he was, ordering her around? She wasn’t a child; she could take care of herself, regardless of what he thought.  “I don’t really care what you’ll allow.  Off you fuck over there now, your bossiness isn’t going to get you anywhere with me,” she snapped, her temper getting the better of her.  She was terrified and didn’t need him making it worse.

Sam’s brows snapped together at her tone and he went to reach for her arm but she jerked away.  “Don’t, Sam.  I’m fine, I just want to go home.”

Misinterpreting her fear for regret over what they’d just done, he stepped back a few feet.  Of course she wouldn’t want him.  He was damaged, likely dead on the inside after all the crimes he’d committed; it had been foolish of him to entertain the idea that she might actually have feelings for someone with a past as dark as his.

“You’re right.  It’s well past your shift and as I told you earlier, you’re fired.  I hope you’re not expecting any pay past four p.m.” With that parting insult, he turned his back on her and walked away while every instinct screamed at him to stop and go back.  To beg her not to go; to give him a chance to prove that he was worthy of redemption…that they could be something dynamic together, if only she would trust him enough to let him help her with this stalker situation.  Deep down he feared that she was scared of him; that he’d pushed her too far while fucking her and now she couldn’t see anything but the monster he’d become.  It was better that he let her go; the police could handle a couple creepy photos.

He was better off alone and she deserved much better than him.

E
MMA STOMPED INTO her house and let the door slam shut behind her.  What the hell was wrong with him?  They’d had the most mind-blowing sex she’d ever had and then he just throws her out like she was nothing more than a whore?  Tears stung the back of her eyes as she ripped her shoes off and tossed them in a pile by the low bench she sat on every morning.  They had a connection; she knew he felt it as well. It was impossible not to after the intimacy that they shared.

“Stupid men.  Stupid men that think they know stupid everything,” she muttered to herself as she headed for the bathroom to wash off the day’s make-up.  The crushing defeat she felt over seeing her dreams slip away from her was enough to have her almost breaking down.  Maybe her uncle would be reasonable…if she explained about what happened.  She blew out a breath and stared at herself in the mirror.  The day had not ended up how she thought it would and now it seemed like she’d made a huge fool out of herself by sleeping with her boss.  Or former boss now.

Bending over the sink, she splashed warm water over her face a few times, anxious to wash away any trace of what had transpired in the shop. Deciding that a shower was a much better option, she straightened and grabbed a small towel from the pile beside her.  Drying her face, she dropped it back onto the counter and then let out a strangled scream when she locked eyes with another person in the mirror.  Standing behind her was the hulking form of a man wearing a mask. He seemed somewhat familiar, but she didn’t place him immediately.  He advanced on her as she stumbled to get to the door of the bathroom and escape into the hallway, tears of relief burst from her eyes as she accomplished her goal and sprinted as fast as she could to the main entrance.  Her stocking feet slipped on her gleaming hardwood floors and she cursed herself for taking off her shoes.

He was close, she knew he was by the ragged way his breath was escaping from him like some sort of freight train.  She reached the door and yanked it open getting down a few of the concrete steps.  Her car was just a few yards away, if she could get to it; she could lock herself in and wait for help. Just a few more feet—

“Ahhhh,” she screamed as she was plucked off the ground around the waist.  The man carried her like a football under his arm, ignoring the way she kicked, screamed and scratched at him.  He kicked her door shut again and snapped the lock into place, effectively trapping her right where he wanted her.  Entering the living room, he wrestled her onto the couch and bound her hands and feet with a thick rope.  When she was restrained, he sat back on the cushions, breathing heavy.

“It didn’t need to be that difficult.  You could have really hurt yourself, my love,” he scolded her.

“Who are you?  What do you want?  Get out of my house!” she yelled.  She had a sinking feeling she knew exactly who this man was and why he was there. He was the killer, the man with the rope that had been murdering all those young girls. Panic started to bubble up inside her, but she forced it down.  She needed to keep calm and stay strong.  She wasn’t a weakling; she could outsmart this son-of-a-bitch, she knew it.

He brushed the hair away from her face and looked at her with a mixture of tenderness and love.  Disgusted, she cleared her throat and spit at him, her aim true and catching him right in the eye.  His body went completely still and Emma stopped her struggling at the slight change in the atmosphere of the room.  He took a tissue from his pocket and calmly wiped the spittle from his eye.  His deliberate movements were sending her nerves dancing and she knew the retribution for what she’d just done was going to be fierce.

His hand snaked out and weaved into her hair roughly, snapping her head back.  She let out a whimper of pain and fought back more tears.

“That was rude.  Rude, rude, rude!” he yelled in her face, his anger evident.  He breathed heavy, trying to calm himself. He let her hair go, ripping a few strands from her scalp as he pulled back and then removed something from his pocket, slipping it over her head.

Emma panicked as she realized it was some sort of wire rope and he slowly pulled it tight until it was snug against her skin.  He then leaned back and pulled off his mask, revealing himself to her.

She gasped and the terror over potentially being strangled to death was pushed aside as she stared at her attacker, shocked.

“Cole? Wha—why?  What’s going on here?” she asked, still not sure why one of Sam’s best customers and a known ladies’ man would be holding her hostage in her home.

“For you.  I’m here for you, my love.  I’ve been watching you for a very long time, I love everything about you. The way the sun glints off your hair giving it a tint of red.  Your smile, so sweet and innocent.  The way your nose crinkles just a little at the end when you laugh.  How your nipples turn to sexy little nubs when you step out of the shower.  There’s nothing that I don’t love about you, Emma.  I’ve waited a long time but I’m finally ready to bring you home.”  His words, which clearly pleased him to tell her by the maniacal grin on his face, sent revulsion flowing through her.  He was crazy, out of his fucking mind and had clearly been stalking her for quite some time.  The fact that he’d even caught her naked made her sick to her stomach.  Who knew what else he’d seen.

“You’re insane.  I’m not going anywhere with you.  Look, Cole, I don’t know what’s going on here, but please.  Just untie me and we can go somewhere to talk; just the two of us.  You need help.  Let me help you.”  Emma prayed that by offering time alone, just them, that he would buy her lies and let her go.  If she could convince him that she would be by his side no matter what, maybe he would trust her enough to loosen her bonds.