“You’re Going To Kill Me”

The next thing you know, you’re being hauled into the air like a Ping-Pong ball, your body flung around as if it weighs nothing at all and then landing harshly back onto the bed on your stomach.

Before you can even make a sound, he’s on top of you, pinning you down. Your heart pounds with incredible vigor as you feel him grab your hair from behind, and a renewed sense of fear ripples through you as you realize just how strong he is.

You struggle in vain against his incredible hold, effortlessly subduing you. Sheer panic takes hold of you as your face is shoved into a pillow, obstructing your breathing as the rest of your body is restrained.

Terrified shrieks leave your lips on impulse, but they’re muffled by the pillow. You continue to scream into it, flailing your arms and kicking around with as much force as you can even as his weight easily confines your movements.

Suddenly, the weight pinning you to the bed is released, and his firm hold on you isn’t there anymore.

Just as quickly as you found yourself on your stomach, you feel your body being hauled around again as he effortlessly flips you over to face him.

You try your luck at taking in deep breaths, desperately trying to calm yourself down in vain. Your hand reaches for your neck on reflex, massaging it haphazardly, rubbing away at the mild pressure he put on it.

For a fraction of time, you both just stare at each other, your eyes asking the same silent questions as he towers above you, still holding you down while you rub your neck.

Are you really here?

Is this really happening?

Suddenly, he breaks the silence.

“Ki…Kitty-Cat?” you hear him ask, his voice deep and delicious, utter sexiness drowning in a blend of uncertainty and shock.

The sound of his voice sends a rush of heat to your nether regions, and your sex pulses vigorously at the distinct way he drawls. You recall just how sexy it is from last time, and realize just how happy you are to hear it again.

But even though the mere sound of his voice made your lady bits want to leak all over his bed, you can’t stop yourself from giving him the most incredulous expression you can muster. Here you are, gushing over the guy like you’re getting paid to it, and what do you get in return? A fucking headlock!

You arch your brow as your fingers continue to work on your slightly sore neck. “What the hell is your problem?”

Me?” he says, equally incredulous, his gorgeous lips curving into a frown as his forehead furrows. “What the hell is your problem; slapping me like that while I sleep?”

A few locks of his hair fall forward as he speaks, framing his face beautifully. It gives him this boyish quality. You suppress a smile threatening to ruin your serious expression at the sight of it, but you can’t help but think his hair really does look better when it’s messy.

God, even when you’re furious with him you can’t stop yourself from appreciating his physical appeal.

What the hell is wrong with me?

He smiles wryly, a sly grin replacing the frown he had on just seconds ago.

And, instinctively, you realize something:

He just read your mind.

You’d almost forgotten about that tiny little detail.

And you’re still not sure how you feel about it.

You try to focus, but your body really does seem to have a mind of its own; your heart beating erratically, as if it’s trying to make up for lost time. As if, a second later, it’ll shut down completely.

Immediately, you fall into this state of high; a sort of daze that you can’t really describe, one that you’ve never experienced. It feels as if you’re two individuals in one body, stuck in a dreamy haze and a panicky state at the same time—simultaneously heavy and light, just like in your first lucid dream.

It feels…goddamn confusing.

Even more confusing than your first encounter.

As more time passes, you become more and more convinced that there really are two people inside you; one arguing with the reaper, and the other going through some kind of over-sensitivity crisis. You hear yourself talking to him, countering his sentences, challenging his words, and teasing him despite his physical advantage over you.

You’re doing all of it with apparent clarity, but at the same time, in a very strange, inexplicable way, that part of you also seems out of focus, and the only things you can seem to hone in on are the sound of his voice, the feel of his strong hands against your skin, the softness of the bed against your back, the incredible warmth of his body, his crisp, woody scent, and the stunning power in his eyes.

Your senses seemed to be on overload, and your vagina even more so. It’s throbbing rapidly, picking up speed and echoing the thumping in your chest; like a second heart in your body. It sounds crazy, but you can actually feel every ounce of blood rushing through it, pushing against the walls of your veins and capillaries.

Every single contraction of the walls of your sex seem to magnify in intensity with each new pulse. The throbbing in your pussy quickly becomes so distracting that it’s all you can focus on for several moments.

His hand remains wrapped around your throat, large and almost possessive, showing no sign of letting up its hold. Just then, a previous thought comes back to you as you hold his gaze.

Abruptly, his eyes begin to change, quickly transitioning from the dreamy mesh of blue and teal that you’ve come to know to an incredible, electric gold. The hue becomes deeper and more vibrant with each passing second, transforming into a breathtaking gradient of so many shades of dark yellow, looking like pure energy itself.

The color looks so vibrant, so alive that, for a second, you actually expect its magnificent glow to erupt from his eyes and spill gloriously from his gorgeous face. His gaze gleams unnaturally, as if there’s just too much power to stay encased within the confines of his eyes.

In mere seconds, they’ve gone from mesmerizing to fiercely hypnotic, and their new vivacious hue is absolutely spellbinding.

Despite all the insanely strange events that have happened to and around you recently, this is probably the strangest experience you’ve had yet.

You continue to stare into his eyes. You can’t do anything else. You can’t stop looking. They’re so beautiful, so unbelievably beautiful you actually feel like crying the more you look at them.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt more bizarre for harboring such strange and confusing feelings, and you know you’re beyond crazy for actually getting emotional over the intensity of his eyes, but you really can’t help yourself. You’ve never experienced anything remotely like what you feel in this moment, and you’re at a loss for what to make of it. You’re not even sure you want it to stop or go on.

Their sheer, unveiled intensity both frightens and exhilarates you, makes you feel like you’re going to die and be born anew all at once.

God, this is so crazy…

You feel like you were looking at something so spectacular and magnificent that you can’t possibly be the same after witnessing it; like the birth of a star or the implosion of an entire galaxy.

Just from looking into them, you realize with concern that you’d honestly do anything he asked. You’d comply willingly. Eagerly. You just have to keep staring into his golden eyes. They’re that compelling; absolutely and starkly arresting, unapologetic and unrestricted as they consume you to your fucking core. To the deepest parts of your soul.

Even though his body is what’s pinning you to his bed, it’s the unbelievable intensity of his eyes that are actually keeping you in place.

It’s like staring straight into the sun–utterly amazing and borderline absurd. You’ll probably go completely blind in the next few seconds, but you don’t care. His eyes are simply too compelling to not keep staring into.

It’s hard to read his expression. He looks like he’s high, enraged, lustful, and on edge all at the same time. He actually looks dangerous. But you’re not afraid of him. You can’t tell what he’s thinking. Suddenly, you wish you could read his mind. You want to know what’s going on; what this right here means, what the implications are and what the potential consequences will be if whatever’s happening right now continues.

Maybe I am going to die after all…

“You’re going to finally do it…aren’t you?” you say languidly, even as your sex pulses out of control. It’s not really a question. Just a presumptuous remark.

In response, his fingers tighten around your neck more firmly, the pads digging into your flesh, making your mind rush with fear and your body with overwhelming lust.

“You’re going to kill me,” you finish, your eyes wide with uncertainty and expectancy at the added pressure on your neck as you continue to look into his own unyielding stare.

His paralyzing eyes blatantly undress you, stripping you to the bones despite your nakedness as they roam over your body with both assertion and determination.

“No,” he says, his voice unbelievably deep and laced with desire. “But you are going to feel like you’re in fucking heaven by the time I’m done with you, little girl.”

He ends his words with a growl, sealing the wonderfully menacing promise in the best way possible as he grips your hair with his other hand, forcing your chin up and placing his lips on yours.

***

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THIS CHAPTER MAKES ME FEEL...
  • Fascinated
  • Happy
  • Sad
  • Angry
  • Bored
  • Afraid

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