Chapter 3: The Unblinking Hour

The bedroom was dead quiet, the air heavy like the stillness right before a heavy rain, smelling of dust and wet earth coming in through the window cracks. A pale light dropped from the ceiling, washing over the floorboards. Jane stood right in the middle of the room, her chest pounding against her ribs like something trying to break out and run away. Her body was burning hot, head spinning, that deep ache between her legs making her crazy. She wanted him bad, no shaking about it, and she wanted him right now before she lost her mind completely.

She rushed for her dress zipper, her fingers clumsy and shaking as she fought the cloth. Before she could pull it down, his hand caught her wrist. Hard.

He moved fast, stepping right out of the dark corners like he had been standing there the whole time. Not a single word left his mouth. He just stared down at her till a quiet breath left his lips, freezing her legs right where they stood. His skin felt like cold stone against her hot pulse. He tilted his head, watching her heavy, making her feel naked all over under his gaze.

Then his hands steady. He worked the buttons and zipper down, dragging his knuckles across her collarbone and slowly down her neck. It felt cold like ice touching her skin, dragging out the shivers till the dress dropped all the way to the floor and she stood there shaking in the open air.

His fingers hit her underwear lace, and he stopped right there. A hot wave of shame hit her chest. She knew how she looked—soaked, dripping, showing every bit of her desperate self without trying to hide it anymore.

She tried pulling back, reaching down to cover herself, but his hand stayed fixed like iron on her hip.

He dropped to his knees right in front of her, his eyes locked on hers with a dark, heavy hunger. He leaned in close, caught the edge of the cloth with his teeth, and gave a slow pull. The tearing sound echoed loud and sharp in the quiet room. It felt like embarrassing rubbish, but she couldn't make herself stop him even if she tried. The last piece fell away, leaving her completely open to the air and totally at his mercy.

Then his hands touched her. Slow at first, his freezing fingers tracing all over her wet skin. He rubbed her thighs and pushed them apart wide so nothing was hidden from him. He started teasing her right there, swirling his fingers round her hot spot while his other hand gripped her hip tight to keep her from moving away.

He leaned close, blowing a cold breath right on her wet place, and she shivered mad because her body heat and his ice breath clashed crazy together. Then his tongue dragged right up the middle, tasting how soaked she was. Jane let out a loud gasp, grabbed his hair, and pulled him down harder against her.

He didn't rush at all. He licked her soft skin over and over, his flat tongue lapping up her wetness like someone drinking water after a long trekking in the sun. His mouth covered her completely, sucking gentle while his thumb kept rubbing her clitoris in circles. Her legs started shaking bad. She threw her head back and bit her lip, but small noises kept bursting out of her throat. Every time his tongue pushed inside, she whimpered loud.

His mouth followed down, leaving hot, wet kisses on her tummy and thighs, tasting every single spot till his cold tongue slid right inside, burying deep, his tongue working hard on her clitoris and sending a sharp shock straight to her brain.

Jane was breaking apart. She spread her legs wider, clutching his shoulders, choking out, “Omo... put it inside me. Please put it inside me, I need you.”

She was soaked, aching non-stop. She clawed at the bed sheets, arching up till he finally shifted. He lunged forward, driving straight inside her with a heavy push that knocked the wind clean out of her lungs. It felt so thick, so huge. He put a pillow under her hips to lift her up, his knees bent as he pounded full force, filling her completely.

It turned into hours of a steady, heavy rhythm, the bed screaming against the floorboards as he kept driving without taking one single stop. Not her first time, but she had never seen this kind of thing—hours of him never getting tired, never sweating, never even catching his breath. He drove in with a blank focus, his eyes fixed on nothing, staring straight through her into the dark room.

She caught his eyes for a second, swearing the pupils stretched long and weird, not human at all. She blinked hard, and they were normal again. She wondered if the shadows were just playing games with her head because of the heat.

The room seemed to shrink around them, the darkness pressing in from the corners while the relentless rhythm kept going on and on. She could hear the faint sound of the wind outside shaking the old window frames, but inside it was just the wet slap of skin and her own ragged breathing echoing off the walls. Her legs felt heavy like lead, wrapped tight around his waist as she tried to keep up with a pace that defied any normal human strength. Every time she thought he might slow down, he pushed harder, driving deep into her core until her thoughts dissolved into pure white noise.

Her skin was slick with sweat, mixing with the cool air of the room to send goosebumps all over her arms, even though inside she felt like she was burning up from the inside out. She reached up, her fingers tangling in his dark hair again, pulling him down so she could feel his breath against her neck, rough and freezing all at once.

Jane gave up fighting it. She dropped every bit of pride, letting go completely as she moved with him into the dark, shaking over and over again against her hot skin. Tired, dripping, and aching everywhere, she was still begging for more, her voice cracking as she whispered nonsense into the quiet. Her tummy felt sore and tight from the heavy pace. He acted like a fine gentleman with his calm face, but he tore into her like a wild dog that finally caught meat. She was totally his now—a prisoner in a dark house, drowning in a sweet pain like a curse she never wanted to escape.