"I won."
"Alright already."
"As promised?"
"Ja. But only a little bit."
"Danke."
Almost immediately, he got off his seat, his hungry eyes seemingly pinning me down. I didn't mind these at first, but he strode over to me quite casually, footsteps slightly muffled by the carpeted floor. His two hands held me both by the shoulders, nose sniffing on me like that of a mountain beast's.
"Let's not do it in a position such as this," his voice, ever so low decided. I merely gave him a nod as I got out of my seat. Even before I could find my balance, he wrapped an arm around me by the waist and pushed me roughly to a wall. Roughly, but not rough enough to hurt me. He resumed his sniffing.
"Where would you like to take it from?" I inquired, keeping myself calm as usual. As an answer, a dark gloved hand was raised up to caress a part of my neck that was left uncovered by the cloth wound around it.
"Here."
I unknotted the cloth that was tied around it, as was his wishes. In turn, he removed the gloves that wrapped his hands, allowing his rough skin to feel the softness that was on my neck. I leaned my head back against the wall, face turned to one side to bare more of the flesh on my neck. Then he bent over, his locks brushing up against my jaw. His mouth was already on my neck, licking it at first, then nibbling on it. It seemed as if he was having a hard time, so he undid the first button of my white shirt and slid the cloth off that very shoulder that he was nibbling on. As gently as he could muster, he pulled a patch of skin off my neck, causing me to whimper of the short, yet, sharp pain. Then he pulled away, chewing that part of my flesh that he had ripped off, his gaze, still as cold.
I wonder how I tasted like. I wonder.
I placed a hand on the wound on my neck that was now bleeding profusely. But he stopped me, pleading,
"More," and he tore off another patch.
"Enough, already," I pushed him away when he asked for a third time, wrapping back the cloth around my neck to stifle the flow of red. But he still had me pinned to the wall, a hand on my chest and the other, ruffling my dark hair which seemed soft to his touch. He stooped down a bit to plant a gentle kiss on my forehead, whispering a word of thanks.
Yet just as he took the weight of his hand off my chest, I looked up and realized that he had a look of utter dissatisfaction on his face. Though hidden well, it's still distinguishable. At this, he immediately aimed his gaze at me, as if he felt that I had discovered that hidden expression on his face. That hand on my chest suddenly began placing its weight on me again. My heart had sped up its beating pace. What was he going to do now?
"It's . . . beating faster," he remarked as his hand on my chest gripped on the cloth that separated it from the flesh underneath. I was beginning to feel uncomfortable under his grasp, nervous. Then almost instantly, he ripped the rest of my shirt's buttons open.
"What are you doing?" I exclaimed as I made an attempt to push him away, but in vain. He was quick enough to put a vice - like grip on my wrists and pin them back to the wall. Slowly, he ghosted his breath on my bare torso studying it, as if he didn't own one. Of everything to see there, it was my pounding chest that took all of his interest.
"No, please . . . don't!" I shut my eyes, pleading. The force on my wrists was too strong on me, I can barely even move an inch. Struggling would prove pointless. I was already shaking out of fear as he stuck out a wet red tongue to lick me. I held my breath.
He loosened his grip on my wrists. At some point, I felt greatly relieved.
But it was not it.
Quick as a flash, he placed an arm around my back and hoisted me up, bringing that very chest of mine up to his lips, and he, not able to restrain himself, literally ate my heart out, smearing himself with my warm, red blood. I felt weakened, but I managed to pull out a scream.
Why did I refuse to turn him over to the cannibal police earlier?