Page 22 of Locke 2

It was only as Dahlia began to settle on the opposite side of bed that I could feel a cool breeze along my face. That wasn’t right. It was cold, sure, but notthatcold.

Confused, I opened my eyes again.

I didn’t move for a long time. I shivered, unblinking, as soft little sounds disturbed the silence. They’d been sounds I would have chalked up to being Dahlia rummaging around, but she was in bed with me.

A zap of awareness ran through me and my heart sped up. The sounds were close. Quiet steps. In the bedroom. Feet from where I lay. I still didn’t move as fear began to mount inside me. I tried to reason that it could be sleep paralysis, except I didn’t sense anevilpresence.

It wasn’t a good presence, either.

There was a prickling at the back of my neck. A feeling of being watched. The feeling I’d been waiting for the last two days. I sucked in a breath. He was here—

Suddenly something cold and hard pressed against my head. I froze, the fear jolting every atom of my being awake.I recognized the feel of that damn gun. I’d committed it to memory when he’d used it on me that night he murdered the man in the ladies’ room of that club. You don’t forget a feeling like that.

As I turned my head, a large hand wrapped around my throat and the scent of him hit me strongly. I shut my eyes, pretending this was just a nightmare. It wasn’t real. He wasn’t over me right now, choking me.

But then his body climbed over the bed, and the mattress shifted. He settled over me, and still, I didn’t open my eyes. He was so quiet, I didn’t hear him breathe, but I felt his breaths. Felt them against my face as he dropped down to whisper, “Did you think I wouldn’t find you?”

I opened my mouth to respond but no words came out. He let my throat go and I turned my head to the side, refusing to look at him. I didn’t realise until that moment how unprepared I was.

How terrifying he was.

“Silly little lion,” he growled, anger lacing his tone. “You almost got away.”

I still didn’t respond.

“I almost let you,” he added, his voice tight and fuming.“Almost.”

That gun was still pressed against the side of my head, and while his other hand wasn’t around my throat, it was now grabbing at my clothing. It was whiplash. His movements were rough and angry. He felt my stomach, sliding his hand below the waistband of my pyjamas and panties, grabbing at my core. Istilled and went to shout at him to stop when he tapped the gun against my head, causing my heart to jerk.

“Remember who’s in charge,” he warned, as his hand settled over my core. He didn’t move his fingers. He just had it placed there, like he was claiming it, like it belonged to him. Well, with that gun to my head, he could fucking have it.

My breathing picked up. I wanted to look up at him, but it was so dark, and my eyes had yet to adjust to my surroundings. Plus, I kept closing them. I kept waiting for this to be a dream.

How many times had I dreamt of him doing this very thing?

My pussy stirred at his simple touch. The boldness—suddenness—of it. He didn’t have to stimulate me to get a reaction. I felt ashamed of how quickly my lower belly came alive, warmed and wanting.

No, no, no, this wasn’t supposed to happen.

What was supposed to happen, I questioned myself. Did I think he’d just knock on my fucking door? Locke wasn’t normal. He wouldn’t have waited for me to invite him in.

But I could still talk sense into him. He wasn’t so far gone, right?

I licked my trembling lips, pushing out, “Locke—”

“Shut up.”

I was shaking everywhere. My pulse was in my ears, thumping away. I squeezed my eyes even tighter, but I felt the tears form as he leaned over me, his hot hand still cupping me. The gun hadn’t moved, but I felt it shake. I felt the vibrations of his anger—so much anger—I felt I’d made a very bad mistake.

This is what he is. A predator. You asked for this.

I thought I knew that already, but I didn’t remember the consequences until that very moment. I’d literally invited a killer back into my life, and now I was fucked. “Locke—”

He kissed me suddenly. It was a punishing kiss. So hard, I knew it would bruise. He kissed me in a self-servient way. He didn’t care if I kissed him back. I was hardly able to keep up with the feel of his lips. I simply surrendered my mouth to him, allowing him to bite at my lips, to search my mouth with his tongue, tasting me.

In fact, he didn’t stop tasting me.

He sucked at my bottom lip, biting it hard, and I cried out from the pain. Blood coated my mouth, and he groaned in approval, lapping it up before he sucked and kissed at the corner of my mouth and then my cheek and chin and down to my throat. I gasped, my eyes forced open now to stare up at the ceiling as he finally dragged his hand from my pussy to wrap around my breast.

---