I suck my bottom lip as I follow the line going down his stomach, then the deep V leading to a place that I have only ever seen in my imagination. Though, I guess a dream constitutes my imagination. But I swear the bulge of his pants moves when I lock my sight on the large dent.
I look down at myself and immediately become self-conscious. I’m in nothing but his necklace and a thin white linen robe that splits just below the area that should be kept hidden, and the top dips low to my navel, a hint of my scar peaking through. I scramble to right the gown, but it does nothing to hide my nipples that can be seen through the fabric.
The fact that I can’t tell where he’s looking only makes me more self-conscious, like maybe he doesn’t like what he sees, or maybe he’s about to go in for the kill.
“Why are you here? What is this place? Where am I?” I pester him with questions, hoping he’ll answer.
I take the time to properly look around. The bed that I’m on is in the middle of a clearing, surrounded by a hundred candles of varying sizes, forming the shape of the Faceless Man’s symbol. Only this time, I’m in the middle of it.
It’s like I’m being offered up to a higher power, a sacrificial lamb here for the slaughter. Would I say no, or would I let him have his way with me?
It doesn’t really matter what I do, I realize, because this is just a dream. I’ll wake up tomorrow feeling even more guilty and no less lonely. I’ll be back to having contact and connection through the form of one-sided letters. Well, assuming he responds to me.
I run my fingers through the soft red velvet blankets and matching cushions. Grabbing the blanket, I try to pull it up to cover myself so he doesn’t see how hard I’m squeezing my legs together or just how obvious my nipples are at the sight of him like that or any trace of my scars.
Just beyond the line of candles, the Faceless Man says, “When my dark storm summons me with the promise of letting me taste her, I come.”
The space between my legs grows damp, and it only gets worse when he pushes off the tree and stalks toward me. A predator that has finally cornered his prey. A demon that has finally found a soul.
When he steps over the candles, they blaze even brighter. Goosebumps pebble along my skin, but not from the cold.
Even though I can’t see his face, he’s walking toward me like he’s going to devour me, lick and bite every inch and not leave a single crumb.
“I didn’t summon you,” I whisper, foolishly crawling as far back from him as possible.
He stops and cocks his head. “No?”
I blink, momentarily transfixed at the sight of his body from his nearness. I shake my head. “I never did that.” I have to tear my eyes away from the hard muscles of his body and to the forestry around. There’s almost an otherworldly hue to it. “Is this a dream?”
“No.”
He’s lying. This must be a dream.
He starts walking again, his steps slower than before like he wants to drag out his hunt until he reaches the end of the bed. I pull my knees to my chest and cross my ankles to hide myself from him.
The bed dips when he leans forward, placing his weight on his hands pressed flat on either side of the bed. Every inch of him is hypnotic, not just because of the smoke dancing on his skin, but because he’s sculpted like a Greek god.
“I told you that I will be tasting you.” I scream when he darts his hand out to grab my ankle and pull me to the edge of the bed, so that I’m at his mercy. “And I am not a liar, Lilith.”
I squirm beneath him when the cold air caresses my center, and I try to shift my hips to tug the robe down, but he grabs my wrists and holds them above my head with a single hand. The combination of the two moves has a whimper escaping my throat. I swear somehow the shadows beneath his hood darken.
“This is just a dream,” I say to myself, rather than him.
“Tell me, my love.” He drags his free hand from my ankle, up my thigh and to my hip, slowly, ever so slowly, holding it down when I try to shift away from him. Then he moves his hand between my legs. I buckle when a whisper of a touch slithers over my lips, making me feel like this is definitely real.
“Do you often dream of me between your legs?”
As if his soul is pulling away from his body, a dark shadow forms behind him, growing in size and unfurling like a true creature of the night. The shadow has to be eight feet tall at least. It mimics the Faceless Man’s every move like it’s an extension of himself. Even though I can barely see the shadow’s silhouette, I can just make out the barrel chest and the width of his arms that are bigger than the size of my head. Still, this form is identical to the Faceless Man’s.
I try to move away as the shadow develops a mind of its own, reaching for my throat and wrapping its cool fingers around it. The pressure doesn’t hurt, but it starts a deep pulse between my legs as it—he—steals my breath.
“Are you a monster?” I manage to gasp.
He grazes my glistening heat as a low growl starts in his throat. Then he drags his hand beneath the robe over the soft skin of my stomach to grab a full breast. “He and I are one. Do you think that I am a monster, Lilith?”
I’m too breathless to respond, not for the lack of air, but for the way he assaults my nipple. Twisting and pinching ruthlessly as if it is my punishment for asking such a question.
A shadowed hand reaches down and yanks my robe open, baring me to the Faceless Man and his shadow. I huff out a gargled cry when a shadowed hand slaps my breast, leaving behind a sinful burn. There’s no way that he can’t see my scars or the way they make me feel like I am less. But the way that he’s grasping me tells me that he couldn’t care less about them. Like he said, he thinks I’m beautiful.
“Answer me. Let me hear your voice.”
I whimper and buck my hips up, trying to gain some friction. I feel so pathetic, having a dirty dream about a man I’ve never truly met. I moan, not recognizing this desperate person that I am, wanting his skin on mine and to be full of everything he wants me to feel.
It has been so long since I’ve been touched. But ever since that first letter, I’ve never lacked the feeling of being wanted. The Faceless Man has made sure that the feeling is constant. Still, I have doubts. I need his touch, too.
“No,” I choke out. I think you’re an angel, I want to say. Saving me from death. Saving me from myself.
“Do not move your hands from this spot, or you will learn just how monstrous I can be. Do you understand?” The pressure around my throat increases and his hands move to the next nipple, abusing it as he did the other. “Nod your head if you understand.”
I nod.
He leans down, blinding me with the darkness beneath his hood. My back arches involuntarily when his chest caresses my nipples. He pulls my bottom lip between his teeth sharply and my breath stutters. He licks the wound and pulls away, letting go of my throat.
“Good girl.”
This is just a vivid dream. This is just a vivid dream. This is just a vivid dream.
The shadowed hands find purchase with my breast, giving them more attention than they’ve ever received in their life.
“What are you doing?” I pant when he lowers himself until my heat is in the same line of sight as his eyes.
“I brought you a meal. It’s only fair that you offer me one in return.” He draws a single finger over my clit, then pushes into my entrance and hisses. “So beautiful.” I cry out from the combined stimulation of the shadowed hands and his real one. “I can smell your need for me, Lilith. I have made a decision, do you want to know what it is?”
It takes everything in me not to tell him to add another finger and just let me fall off the edge of bliss. The one digit keeps moving in and out of me, curling slightly to hit the spot that will make me see stars. But his lazy motions tell me he’s not even trying.
He’s playing with his food.
Delirious with need, I forget that he asked me something until a shadowed hand slaps my breast. “Your words, love.”
My brain is in too much of a frenzy to think of what it might be. “Yes.”
“I’m not just going to taste you. I’m going to hear you scream.”