Page 53 of His Dark Vices

"Oh, great! That makes it better," I say sarcastically. "Go on, since you're answering questions. I want to hear it all."

I watch his jaw tense, like he's biting down the words. But then he tells me. Or reminds me, rather. He reminds me of when we first met, when he was a cocky little shit in the cafeteria, hassling me between classes. Then he followed me for the first time to the clearing behind the college. Following me is how he kept me within reach, exerted some kind of illusory control over me.

I stop pacing as he tells me about myself, what he witnessed, what he learned—and more importantly, what he couldn't learn. And what that made him do.

He watched me, as much as he could, kept his eyes on me, wanting to learn more, looked at me when I didn't want anyone else to. He admits this all without glancing once at me. And when he couldn't watch me without risking getting caught, he found a way to watch me without anyone knowing.

Companion.

Sam designed Companion for me. Sam learned everything he needed to know to be successful in that position, rocketed to success and became a billionaire. Just to keep me under his thumb, just to market Companion directly to me.

And then he bided his time, waited for just the right opportunity to step into my life—again.

He set not one, but many traps for me, all to manipulate me into being with him.

Sam did that.

Sam… is obsessed with me.

Revulsion makes it difficult to hold my ground. Just the air of his penthouse feels thick and heavy on my skin. I want to get out, get away. This is all a facade—especially the loft, the perfect writer's paradise.

And if he's been presenting the side of him he thinks I'll like best, then what's really inside him?

"Who even are you?" I blurt out, fear rising in my chest.

"I'm the man you fell in love with!" Sam roars, blazing to life. His eyes have been dim and dull since he got here, but now, they're bright with emotion as he closes the distance between us.

I'm frozen, shocked that he raised his voice so suddenly. Or maybe it's everything he's told me. I feel like I'm dreaming. How can this be happening?

"I'm the man you fell in love with," he repeats. "Deny it. Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me right now."

I can't find the words he's demanding to hear. I stumble backward, but he's still coming toward me, bearing down on me all too soon. It doesn't make sense. How could I love a man I don't know?

"I gave you everything you wanted, Bree. I became the man you wanted, and I satisfied you, even the needs you didn't know you had. I woke that up in you, didn't I? And you loved being under my control. Tell me you didn't."

I keep backing away, but he keeps advancing, and I don't know where I'm going. My eyes are locked to his—I can't look away.

"Who am I? I'm the man who wants you more than anything else, more than anyone else. It's just been you, Bree. I haven't taken my eyes off you since the day I first saw you. Don't you know what that means?"

I shake my head, tears springing to my eyes. I don't know what any of this means.

"What have you had to complain about since I learned everything about you, Bree? I learned your mannerisms, your minute preferences. I opened you up like a book and read you every night. I still want more. I still want all of you."

Sam wraps his hand around my neck, and my eyes widen further. Tears slip down my cheeks. He doesn't squeeze like I think he will. Instead, the soft warmth of him seeps into my skin, and my heart leaps. His thumb brushes at my tears.

"You have no idea what you do to me." Sam's voice drops lower, and I can't help but notice his eyes on my lips.

Instinctively, I start backing away, but there's nowhere left to go. I fall backward and land on the couch with a gasp. Sam leans down toward me, trapping me, filling the space between us with his scent, his presence. I want to breathe him in.

"But I know what I do to you. I know that I drive you crazy when I'm inside you. I woke up that craving in you, and you know I'm the only one who can satisfy it now. We've only had two scenes, but you're hooked. Aren't you?"

He grips my chin, and suddenly, I'm aware of how hard I'm breathing. In one moment, Sam was repulsing me with his disgusting history of us. And now? I can't understand it, but he's intoxicating me, making my mind drift to memories of us together, of him inside me, of him taking me and controlling me, how good it felt, how I begged him.

I squeeze my eyes shut against those thoughts, sending more tears flowing down my cheeks. What does it mean to have these desires and yet feel so betrayed? I feel like nothing is real—except when we're holding each other tightly together, trying to get closer than close. I know that was real.

I feel Sam lean in closer, and I sniffle and whimper.

"You liked when I controlled you, Bree, when I took away all your worries and left you with a blank mind. I stripped you, bound you. And only then could you be who you really wanted to be. That felt so good. I gave you that."

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