Page 77 of Like A Moth To A Flame

I could feel his heart beating against my back, a steady rhythm that seemed to mock my frantic pulse.

With a sudden jerk, he dragged me back to the stairs and released me, pinning me back against the steps with a force that knocked the wind out of me. Gasping for air, I curled into a defensive ball, readying myself for whatever would come next. Butinstead of violence, he treated me only with the husky purr of his voice.

“I warned you, Moth. I told you not to tempt me. Now you get to learn what happens to little brats who disobey.”

I forced myself to look up at him, into the darkness where his face should be. He was facing me, boring down on me with all the intensity of a predator, yet I still couldn’t see his face. All I could see was the glint of his eyes staring back at me, so dark they were nearly black. It was as if he had become a shadow himself, a specter haunting me in the night. Even now, looking up at him, it took me far too long to realize why, even in the dim light, I couldn’t see him.

“What do you want?” I managed to whisper.

He chuckled darkly, the sound reverberating through the empty house.

“Oh, Vanessa,” he said, his voice dripping with mockery. “You know exactly what I want.”

His voice, already so dark and so deep, muffled beneath the ski mask he wore, hiding his face.

With one hand, he held me down, and with the other, his hand gripped my chin and he forced me to meet his gaze. His eyes bore into mine, sending a chill down my spine. Those eyes—deep brown like aged whiskey. I knew those eyes. Why did they seem so familiar to me, yet so foreign at the same time?

I had seen them before. He was right. He was right, I knew who he was.

A gleam of recognition flickered in his eyes, a hint of something sinister lurking behind them. He leaned in closer, his warm breath fanning across my face as he spoke.

“I will give you one chance,” he said, his masked face inches away from mine. “Sit here like a good girl while I tie your hands. If you run, Iwillcatch you. If you do as you are told, I will make it worth your while.”

Fear and defiance warred within me, but as I stared into those dark eyes, a flicker of something else stirred deep within. A memory long buried, a connection that tugged at the edges of my consciousness. Something about those eyes brought me a comfort that I couldn’t explain, like a safety net. Why? Why did I know those eyes?

“Don’t make me regret giving you this chance,” he warned, his voice a dangerous whisper. “Now say ‘Yes Daddy’ if you understand.”

No. I would not say that. I wouldn’t do it. Even if my brain was stuck and stuttering, I wouldn’t stoop so low.

“Say it,” he sneered.

“Fuck you,” I spat.

His face remained obscured by the mask, but I could feel the intensity of his gaze burning into me, and I could see the black fabric shift as he smiled.

“You always have to make things difficult, don’t you?” he seethed through clenched teeth. He chuckled, and his tone lightened. “You’re gonna be a fun brat to break.”

His grip on my chin tightened, his eyes piercing into mine with a mix of anger and something I couldn’t quite decipher. Then, in one swift movement, he released me and stepped back, his form looming in the dimly lit room.

I had two options. I could sit here and let him tie me, or I could run.

My eyes darted behind him, to the front door. How far was it? Ten feet? Fifteen?

I looked back up at him, and there was a glint in his eyes. Between his gloved hands, he produced a length of folded rope and began to slowly unwind it.

Swallowing thickly, I stayed where he put me, only flinching away when he knelt beside me, grabbing one of my wrists and stretching it above my head. The rope was coarse and rough as he wrapped it around me and secured the other end to the wrought iron baluster of the stairs. He repeated the process on the other side until I resembled a twisted hunting trophy, with one wrist tied to one side of the stairs and the other wrist tied to the other.

I struggled against his hold, but his bindings were tight and unforgiving, cutting into my skin as I strained against them. His face remained obscured by the mask, but I could feel the intensity of his gaze burning into me. He stripped one gloved hand with the other and dropped both on the floor at his feet. He reached up, his thumb hooking the bottom of the mask and pulling it up—not all the way, just enough to fold over his nose. I could see the angle of his jaw, and his lips, set in a knowing smirk.

“It’s adorable, Vanessa, how you try to act so fuckin’ tough, but we both know you’re scared,” he said, kneeling on the stairs in front of me. When his knee hit the wood, a loud thud echoed in the house, and I jumped.

“I’m not fuckin’ scared of you,” I spat, my brows furrowed. “I’mnotscared.”

“Are you sure?”

His hand shot forward, wrapping around my throat and pulling me up to him. My wrists pulled against the bindings, the rope digging and tearing at my flesh, but I fought to keep my face stoic. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me wince.

“I could do whatever I wanted to you, ya know?” His fingers squeezed tighter until I felt my blood pounding in my ears, and my vision began to pulse and flash. “I could fuck you, right here on the stairs, and fill up your pretty little cunt until it was leaking out of you. I could choke you with my cock, or fuck your ass. I could slit yourgoddamn throatif I felt like it, and there is nothing you could do to stop me. You are mine, Vanessa, and I can do whatever I want to your body. You belong to me.”

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