CHAPTER 11~ I DON'T LIKE THE DARK
1264 Words
Larisa staggered inside the house, blowing her hair out of her face. Her blackmailer was behind her, locking the door to the house he confessed to having owned.
It was just as fancy as she thought it’d be. Three floors and they were on the second one. A portion of the walls were made of glass and the marble floor made the place seem more extravagant…that along with the chandeliers that hung from the ceiling.
At the front of each floor, she’d noticed from outside that there was a balcony and though there was a beautiful case of stairs that was capable of doing its job, there was also an elevator that could do it quicker. This house was one she hadn’t ever dreamt of stepping foot in, so why was she in it; drunk from the liquor she had consumed with the stifling need to vomit?
Larisa looked back at the man who brought her here, lifting her index finger to point. “I should leave…you obviously got me drunk and brought me here on purpose.”
“I did no such thing.” He smirked at her, those pretty blue eyes he had crinkling in amusement. “I could’ve brought you here even if you were sober, we made a deal, didn’t we?”
“I’m breaking it.” Her words were drawn out, said in slurs. “And I’m leaving, I-I never wanted to stay with you anyway. You are wicked, I don’t like you…I don’t trust you.”
“You don’t have to worry about liking or trusting me, you will soon…I’ll make sure you do. Let’s worry about you right now, you’re a cute drunk, Larisa…out of all the sides of you I’d seen, I never ever dreamt of seeing this one.”
He approached her and she warily stepped back, tripping over nothing but the air. She thought she’d fall, she’d expected to, but when an arm quickly wrapped around her waist, catching her and pulling her against the warmth of another body, she realized she’d been saved.
She looked up at him from the dip position he held her in. “You’re even clumsier when you’re drunk, I see.” He pulled her up, his face close to hers, so close that she could feel his breaths, and his arm was still loosely draped around her waist. “Your cheeks are puffy and red…”
Larisa groped her cheeks immediately, and he chuckled softly. “And your eyes are barely even open. You should go to bed, I don’t have to change your clothes since you’re already wearing your pajamas. Let me take you to your room.”
He let go of her, walking further inside and Larisa staggered behind him with a heart that was beating like crazy…must be because of the fright of her near fall. One of her hands slid from her cheek to the left side of her chest, and it was then he turned back to face her. “Can you even walk properly by yourself? If I’d known you weren’t a good drinker, I wouldn’t have given you more when you asked.”
He walked back towards her and just when she was about to question his actions, he hoisted her up in his arms…holding her bridal style against his firm chest. What was wrong with this man? Why did he keep…? Why was he…?
“Put me down, y-y-you blackmailing bastard…!”
He looked down at her, as if surprised to know she could curse at him. Well, she’d show him that she could do more than just that. “Look here, you are a…a f*cker…! A piece of sh*t and even a dou~”
The bile in her throat rose and her mouth filled with the bitter taste of her vomit that escaped on not only her clothes, but his. He stopped walking and she suddenly felt sober from the fear that ran cold through her.
She’d puked all over his clothes…he’s gonna bury her somewhere in his backyard, he’s gonna murder her. Her hands covered her face and tears blossomed in her eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…I never meant for that to happen…I just…I was just…”
He started walking again and Larisa hiccupped when he stopped to open a door. Was this his torture room?
She closed her eyes, not peeking through until he laid her down against the soft surface of what she knew was a bed. “Let’s use this room for tonight, Little reporter.”
She peeked her eyes open, watching as he flicked his jacket over his shoulders and used it to wipe at the soil in his white shirt. “You’re not just a cute drunk, you’re a messy one too. I wasn’t going to change your clothes, but right now, I have to…I’ll only remove the top, wait here for me.”
He walked out and when he came back, he had a shirt over his shoulder and a wet cloth in his hand. She sat up, looking at him with a vision that was a little blurry. “What are you gonna do?”
He walked over to her, sitting beside her on the bed. “Lift your arms.”
“What are y~?”
“Larisa…”
The warning had her lifting her arms awkwardly and he immediately grabbed onto the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head and off her arms. He laid her back against the bed, her upper body completely bare to him as he settle on top of her.
She looked away, cheeks on fire, heart set ablaze…and this heat could not be cooled by the wet rag he padded against her neck. He wiped at the skin, then moved down to her chest…and her hiccup suddenly got worst.
Her eyes met his, the amusement that still laid in them was far too big to hide. “Are you feeling shy? There’s absolutely no reason to be, I’ve seen all of you before and moreover, it all belongs to me.”
He leaned down to kiss her neck as the cold cloth slid over the rigid peaks of her breasts. It must be the liquor, because she’d be damned if she was sober and got aroused by this cruel man.
Her panty suddenly felt warm and wet and there was enough discomfort between her legs to have her clamping them shut.
“Do you understand?” The cloth ran along her stomach as he raised his head to look at her, staring her down for an answer. Finally, she nodded her head. “Y-hic-Yes.”
“Good…” He rolled off of her, plucking the shirt off his shoulder. “Sit up so I can put it on.”
She did so, and he slid the shirt over her head, using it to cover what of her body was bare. It was oversized, certainly one that belonged to him. “Thank you.” She whispered to him.
“No need, I’ll turn off the lights, go to bed.” He got up, but she grabbed his hand before he could walk off, breathing heavy, breathing hard. “No, please don’t…I don’t…I don’t like being alone in the dark, not when I’m in an enclosed space.”
“Alright, I won’t turn off the lights.” He tilted his head as she finally let go of him. This was surprising…something he didn’t at all know about her, and he thought he knew every f*cking thing…
His little reporter was afraid of the dark…why?
- Writer
