Page 22 of Little Nightmare


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The floor creaks as I ascend the stairs, barely breathing as I walk. My heart is pounding. This feels like a trick. A trap of some sort. He can’t really be letting me out of his sight right now, can he? I turn back, glancing down the stairs and expecting to see him behind me, but he isn’t there.

Once I reach the bathroom, I turn the water on a scalding hot setting, and then I pour a generous amount of vanilla soap inside the bathtub. It bubbles up immediately when it mixes with the water falling from the faucet. The scent hits my nose, and my eyes flutter closed as I inhale its sweet scent. Stripping out of myclothes, I quickly climb inside the tub, letting my body relax as I sink beneath the waterline. When the tub is full, I shut off the faucet and lean back, closing my eyes.

I can hear Rhett downstairs, humming to himself as he enters the living room to find a movie to watch. He’s been in an unusually good mood the last two days. Our game night changed everything. He’s calmer and less overbearing. There’s been a shift in our dynamic, and right here, right now, proves that. He’s beginning to trust me.

Images of him flash through my head. Even when I have two seconds away from him, he’s all I can think about. I’m completely consumed by him and everything that he is. He’s a fucking psycho and a monster, but I keep finding myself completely enthralled with him. I almost feel like a traitorous bitch for earning his trust, knowing what I intend to do with it. I’m going to stab him in the back the second he gives me the opportunity, and that kills me.

It really fucking kills me.

But I can’t live like this. He can’t keep me locked in my own house forever. This isn’t a life anyone would choose for themselves. It’s not healthy.

But the idea of it is tempting. He waits on me hand and foot, all day long. He cooks. He cleans. He’s funny and says the sweetest things sometimes. But he’s also quirky and I kind of love his crazy side. There’s never been anyone like him and I highly doubt there will ever be anyone like him again. He’s unique.

He’smine.

My hand slides beneath the surface of the water, inching down toward my center. Heat pools between my thighs as I consider what life would be like with Rhett, and I’m feeling flustered. My clit is so engorged from days of being edged by him that it begins pulsing immediately upon my arousal.

I gasp as soon as my fingertips reach my clit, swirling softly around it with a firm pressure. Spreading my legs in the bubbles, I widen myself to give my hands more room to move. Biting my bottom lip between my teeth, I begin working myself with my fingers. I circle my fingers around my clit a few times before plunging two fingers inside myself, making my back arch off the back of the tub. I pinch my nipple between my fingers, rolling it around as my other hand returns to my swollen clit.

My entire body jerks upright when I hear the bathroom door creak, and my eyes fall on Rhett. He’s standing in the doorway, watching me with the darkest eyes. There’s a hunger plastered across his hardened face, but he doesn’t say anything as he pushes the door the rest of the way open. His weight shifts to the side when he leans against the frame, never taking his eyes off of me.

I open my mouth to say something, but I don’t find any words. Instead, I try to relax as I lean back, submerging myself beneath the bubbles once more.

His low voice breaks the silence. “Don’t let me stop you.”

“I…” I begin, but quickly trail off.

The look in his eye tells me that his imagination is running wild with images of my body below the thick layer of bubbles. I could pretend that my clit isn’t pounding as hard as my heart is right now, but I’d rather give him a little show. He came all the way up here to check on me, so why not give him a reason to stay?

I let my legs fall wide again, arching my back slightly to give him a small peek of my hardened nipples. My mouth falls open and I let out a whimper when my fingertips find my clit, swirling softly around the sensitive flesh. From the corner of my eye, I can see Rhett’s hand go to the growing bulge in his pants, but he stays silent as he watches me. He’s rubbing himself over his jeans, and I hear his breathing pick up. His breathsare staggered and erratic, quickening as my fingers dip lower, slipping inside my pussy. I moan, arching my back higher.

Pulling my fingers from the water, I bring them to my mouth. I keep my eyes locked on his as I press them against my lips, slowly pushing my way inside. The taste of myself explodes all around my taste buds. He’s right, Iamso fucking sweet. I lap at my fingers with my tongue, rolling it all around them before returning them to my pussy. This time I go in with the intention of making myself come. My fingers move in tight, firm circles, building the pleasure deep in my core. I cry out, getting lost in myself and nearly forgetting that I have an audience.

As I tip over the edge, driving myself into a blissful orgasm, I call out his name. “Rhett,” I pant through lustful breaths.

He growls in response, rubbing himself harder over his pants. His pleased tone seals the deal and I come. Stars form in my vision as I draw out my orgasm, and I feel myself crash as the orgasm comes to an end.

A smirk forms across my lips, and I tilt my head to look at Rhett. He looks like he’s seconds from losing control. He opens his mouth to say something as he takes a step inside the bathroom, then shakes his head.

“I picked out a movie and I made popcorn,” he says before turning to leave without allowing me a chance to respond.

Chapter Ten

CARA

“Imiss work,” I admit to Rhett as a man on the TV screen tattoos a rose onto the skin of a young woman.

He checked in with Jeremy this morning on my phone, and apparently all is well in the tattoo shop. All of the appointments have been running smoothly and on time, even with Jeremy taking over my bookings. I still feel bad. And now watching this man on TV tattoo someone is driving me crazy.

I miss that strong vibration in my hand. The scent of the tattoo shop when I walk in almost every morning. Cracking jokes with a few of the guys. I miss it all.

Rhett picks up the remote, turning down the volume on the TV before meeting my gaze. There’s a mischievous twinkle in his eye, and it scares me.

“What?” I ask, my heart pounding.

“I have an idea,” he beams like a kid on Christmas. “Tattoo your name on me, and I’ll do mine on you. That way, everyone will know how real this is. They’ll know you’re mine and I’m yours.”

My heart sinks, but I show no emotion on my face. The idea of having this man’s name permanently etched into my skin makes me want to fold in on myself. It’ll take one hell of a coverup to hide it as soon as this is over, but if anyone can do a great cover up, it’s me.

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