The Annihilator (Dark Verse, #5)

by RuNyx

She didn’t understand what was happening, and it was scaring her. This wasn’t the black hole, this was something else, something unfamiliar.

A deep red rose on the bedside table, one that hadn’t been there the previous night, caught her eye. Picking it up, mindful of the thorns, she examined it, realizing it was a fresh cut and not an eternal rose. A note sat on the side. ‘How do you like your home?’

“Good morning, Mrs. Blackthorne!” She froze. What the fuck?

“We hadn’t even known he was married until a few days ago,” Bessie kept talking, drawing her attention back. “He was always here alone, and we all just thought he was one of them bachelors, you know?”

“Who all?”

“The villagers mainly. When he bought this land and started building the house, gave lots of us jobs. I take care of the house. My husband takes care of the ...

“How many peo...

“About six.” The older woman opened the door. “We’re all day staff since the village is just a few minutes away. At night, there’s only security at the main gate and those we...

Of course, he had a greenhouse. She wouldn’t be surprised if the next door she opened led to a throne room made of gold.

Surprised at her own sarcastic thought, she pulled up short, shaking her head. Sarcasm wasn’t familiar to her, but it felt nice.

The dark thought was a good reminder that no matter how much finesse he showed to the world, how convinced Bessie and the staff were that he was a wonderful man—oh, he had them fooled—he was still the devil, and this was still her prison.

The staff was eating out of his hands, and Nikki wanted to fuck him. Had she already fucked him? The thought unsettled her.

‘How to make tea?’ Following the steps, in a few minutes, she had the drink steaming in a mug. Adding a spoonful of sugar, terrified for some reason, Lyla brought the rim of the mug to her lips, taking a tiny sip. And she fell in love. She had made herself good tea. One thing at a time.

"I'm a retired psychologist," Dr. Manson broke the silence after a few minutes. "My wife and I moved to Bayfjord many years ago, and while I don't see clients anymore, Mr. Blackthorne was very persuasive."

"What… what do you do exactly?"

"I help people deal with their me...

"What kind of ...

"Whatever kind you want help with. But only if you want my help. Do yo...

"Great. Then know, that going forward, whatever you tell me will remain between us. Even though Mr. Blackthorne employs me, he won't know anythin...

"Good. Then tell me anything about yourself."

She took that time to come to terms with the fact that she had actually done something to end her life, and in the hole she had been, she didn’t blame herself. But as the days passed, and she spent time alone in this beautiful place, somehow never feeling alone because she knew he was somewhere in the house, she also admitted that she didn’t want to stay in that hole. She wanted to come out of it and she wanted to live. She wanted to experience the beauty and feel like she belonged. She wanted to have him hold her and promise that she would never be hurt again. And knowing him, despite the last six months, she would believe him because she had the evidence of the last few years.

“What are you watching?”

“A romantic movie.”

The answer, coming from him of all people, felt so ridiculous that a bubble of laughter left her throat, the sound stran...

“I... laughed,” she murmured, still stunned.

“Do it again.”

“W...

“I want to hear i...

“I can’t do it...

“What are you doing?”

“Making you laugh again.” With that, he began to prod the side of her ribs in quick motions that made her squeal and struggle to get away from him, sensations buzzing on her skin.

He was tickling her. The feared Shadow Man wa...

“Stop, stop, stop, please!”

“You hurt me,” she whispered between them, her eyes welling up.

“I know.”

“They broke me.”

“And they will pay.”

Taking his dark promise to heart, she wrapped her arms around his solid weight on her, and pressed her face into his neck, breathing him in. It had been so long since she'd been held, so long since she'd held anyone, her body, her mind, her soul aching with the hunger of simply touching another and feeling safe. She was still not fully put together but slightly more than she had been in the morning. Maybe she would never be whole. But maybe, one day she wouldn't be as broken either. And that alone gave her some hope.

She had missed his heated, crazy eyes and his little notes and his roses and his quiet, solid presence. She knew from the time she'd spent observing him that he liked watching drama and romantic movies because the emotions fascinated him, and thrillers because he liked knowing answers before anyone onscreen did. She knew that he had meetings in the afternoons that he attended on his laptop while she met with Dr. Manson, and she knew he liked working out every morning at the crack of dawn. She knew he liked listening to her voice, and he liked that she was exploring more and more of herself.

“Why do you have a helicopter?”

“I like flying it.”

“Is that how you got ...

His lips twitched with the memory ...

For the first time in months, arousal slivered through her veins, and she realized that while his physicality may have induced it, it was him she was aroused by. It was always him.

There was something wrong with her because after everything she had been through, the idea of being with a man, any man, being at his mercy and his control, should have made her sick. It did make her sick when she tried thinking about someone else. Not him. She wanted to be under him, struggling as he held her motionless, as he took what he wanted, ravaged her as he wanted. It should have made her sick but the thought of it lit a fire inside her.

Finally done with the boots, he stood up and pushed his pants down, exposing his entire naked body to her for the first time, and she froze.

Not because he was naked, although he had an amazing body. Not because he was hard, even though the sheer size of him was breathtaking. Not because he was letting her look, and his confidence was a turn-on. No, it was because along the ridge and the top of his massive cock, he was pierced. She had never, in her entire experience, even seen a pierced cock much less experienced one. And he wasn’t just pierced, he was pierced—the underside, the crown, and the upper ridge.

“You want to see me do this?” he asked, tugging at his cock, and her eyes locked with his. She nodded.

“Then, no touching yourself. Get on the counter.”

“Say my name,” he ordered her, and she suddenly blinked.