I’m not sure what I was thinking that day. It was a normal Thursday, nothing new or exciting had occurred in the morning. I’d risen from bed, taken a shower and brushed my teeth. I’d then jumped on the 8:05 bus that ran a short distance between my house and the county library where I worked. The ride took its usual 15 minutes before it left me standing fresh faced in front of a building of gothic construction that was my favorite place in the world. After straightening my knee length skirt, I pushed open the door that led into the interior of the library. It was at that moment that my world would change – impossibly and forever. It was a fateful movement of wood that collided with the shoulder of a man that would alter my very existence. It wasn’t fear that I felt at that moment – more like the feeling of being watched. It was the feeling of knowing that danger lurks - the sensation of the hair standing on end at the back of your neck. Looking back on a moment that happened so many months ago, I now realize that I should have listened to that feeling. As I would later find out, the man standing in front of me referred to himself as Master Lucas… …and I was his next target.
His lips were on mine and when I tried to pull away out of anger, he gripped my chin, holding me in place. His tongue forced its way between my lips and my knees buckled at the strength of his kiss. This wasn’t passion or love or desire, this was a man claiming me despite my objections or attempts to stop him.
After struggling against him and after forcing back the feelings I was developing for him, I got desperate. My knee came up aimed straight between his legs, but his hand was faster. His fingers gripped and dug into the skin and tendons beneath and I yelped in pain, which only made him smile as he continued the vicious kiss he was forcing me to take. He released me moments later and guided my leg back down to where I could place my foot on the ground.
When his lips pulled away from mine, his teeth scraped over my mouth before he pulled away to look at me. I jerked back, attempting to place distance between us, but, once again, he moved faster than I could. His hand gripped at the back of my neck and he somehow wrapped bits of my hair around his fingers. He pulled my head back on my shoulders, securing me in such a way that all I could see was him.
“Try and hurt me again and you will regret it.”
“Is that a threat?” I couldn’t believe the way he was treating me. I had a mind to call the police and report his behavior but, what he’d done by this point had not been enough to label it a crime. I’d invited him here. I’d stepped up to stand beside him in my backyard and I’d returned the kiss until my anger reminded me that I wanted nothing to do with the arrogant man who held me in place.
He chuckled, dark and deep. Before replying, his tongue peeked out to run along the cushion of his bottom lip. “No, my dear, it’s a promise.”
Before I could reply, his mouth was hot against mine. I struggled and fought, finally sinking my teeth into the full skin of his lip. He hissed, but released me, and when he pulled back, I could see where the pink color of his mouth had been stained red from the blood I had drawn.
“As I said, Autumn. You are going to regret that.”
Suddenly I was free and I fell back, tripping over the heel of my shoe landing hard on the concrete beneath me. He neither moved to catch me or help me back to my feet. For a few quiet seconds, he stared at me as if he felt sorry for me and I reached up to brush back the hair that had fallen in front of my face.
“Were you going to leave, Mr. Bates, or do I need to call the police to escort you?”
Another tense moment of silence occurred before he calmly responded, “An escort will not be necessary. Before I leave, however, I do want to tell you that I attempted to help you as much as I could. I’ve focused on you, Autumn, and after that little stunt of yours that left my lip bleeding, I am more intent than ever to have you. The question is not if – but when.”
“That will never happen. I can promise you.” I don’t know where I suddenly found the strength; be it indignation, or anger, or the hint of betrayal, my voice was firm once again and I didn’t frighten so easily in his presence.
He laughed. “We’ll see about that, Ms. Cleary. I’m the type of man who gets what he wants. You’d be wise to remember that.”
About the Author
Lily White is a dark writer who likes to dabble on the taboo side of eroticism. Most of the time she can be found wandering around aimlessly while her mind is stuck in some twisted power play between two characters in her head. You may recognize her in public by the confused expression, random mumbling, and occasional giggle while thinking up a scene. Lily’s favorite things in life are reading, thinking about reading, buying books for reading….and writing. Her other secret pleasure is meeting with her plot editor in public to discuss her books and watching the shocked expressions of the people around her that don’t realize she’s talking about a book. When Lily is not reading, writing, wandering or freaking out innocent bystanders, she’s sleeping.