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I shake my head quickly. He needs to leave, and I need to call the police.
A sound clangs on the other side of the bed, and the other man freezes. Shit, I said that aloud.
My man’s hands brush the side of my breasts, his grip on the open top enough to pull me until I’m sitting up.
“Princess, we’re going to take a shower where I’ll wash your body, then mine, before bending you over and taking your pussy again. Then we’ll come out here back to bed, where I’ll fuck you at least three more times. However many it takes for you to know that you’re mine and for me to know that you’ll feel me inside you all day tomorrow.”
Princess.
“Michael,” I whisper.
His hands brush the hair away from my face, his mask inches from my lips.
The smell of copper and sweat makes me lightheaded.
“That’s the only name you say in bed from now on. Until death do us part.” The words start harsh, the mechanical voice rough and scary, turning to a soft whisper, spoken into my mouth as his lips touch mine, the mask falling discarded onto the bed.
Wet with my tears, our lips mold together. He’s forceful, taking everything I have to give.
My lip quivers after he frees me, but he quickly sucks it into his mouth. A reminder that I’ll never be free, not now.
There is no denying, no forgetting what happened here tonight.
Across the room, Darrell sits on the floor. If I hadn’t witnessed what happened in this room, I’d never know who it was. He’s wrapped in plastic like he’s been fastened up with a giant roll of cling wrap.
His body is propped against the wall, facing the bed. Had he been put there like that before or after Michael climbed back onto the bed? Had he posed his body to watch us?
My stomach roils, and I double over as I gag.
Encouraging me to the edge of the bed, Michael pushes my head low. “Take some deep breaths. It’ll pass.”
The other man, Daniel by the size of him, sprays something onto my wall. The smell of bleach burns my nose.
Michael’s brother stands on the bed, scrubbing the wall behind it.
The bedroom light flicks on, leaving me naked and bare to their eyes, my top left on the bed while I stand.
My steps are shaky, a mixture of shock, horror, adrenaline, and the remains of the best orgasms I’ve ever had.
Michael’s words of what will happen now somehow heat me. Even now, walking past a dead body, wrapped like a giant fucking present, with his older brother in the room, I crave this man.
He’s a killer, and I want him.
I eye the bedroom door, and the party is still booming on the other side. A gentle kiss lands on my shoulder, then another. My feet stop, and I stand between the two doors.
Blunt teeth sink into my left shoulder, painfully pinching the skin.
Pivoting to the left, I enter the bathroom.
I can do nothing but stand and watch as Michael opens the shower door and turns the water on. Steam fills the room quickly.
My hiccuped cries are interrupted by the rustling of his clothes as he strips. Carelessly, he leaves everything in a pile at his feet.
The smell of copper is stronger in here. Hisclothes are black, the blood soaked into the dark material remaining hidden from the naked eye.
A hand that killed a man not too long ago is now held out in front of me. I ignore it.
I hate him. I hate myself.
