The Guru: Shadow (Dark Triad #1)

4. Emma

4

EMMA

PLAYLIST: BLINDFOLD - SLEEPING WOLF

W hen she opened the door to her apartment, she was in a state of not giving a fuck anymore. Deis had insisted on escorting her upstairs; she was too exhausted to discuss further. So she went first into the dark apartment, him behind her. As he tried to turn on the lights, she said, “No lamp,” and went for the bathroom on the right, opening the door wide so its light fell into the empty entrance and living room. The apartment was a small apartment, so typical for Manhattan, with either those endless long hallways or none at all. Hers had none, so they stood directly in the living room.

“Did you just move in?” he asked while taking in what he saw – or not saw.

“No.” She had no wish to recall what happened here, so she went to the open-plan kitchen and turned on the light. “Do you need a refreshment or are you happy now, as I am safe home?”

“This is no home.”

“It is mine. Or was. Whatever.”

It sure was no home anymore, he was right, but there was no need to have it so shoved into her face. It was a mess of a home, like everything in her life, a beautiful reflection of her incapability.

And while she put her clutch onto the kitchen counter separating the living room from the kitchen area, he walked through the apartment and opened the door to the guest room on his left.

Seriously!

“What happened in here?” he asked her and added with a chuckle, “Murdered someone?”

“Ever heard of privacy? Or manners?” she asked him as she walked to him, pushed him out of the room, and closed the door shut behind her, maybe a bit too forceful.

How I hate people invading my personal space!

“I have, but it’s all a facade,” he said totally unconcerned.

He walked around and took in the apartment. A part of her wanted to strangle him. When he reached the books in the corner, he tilted his head to read the titles.

“I believe it’s basic human decency, so please–”

“Human decency is a concept made to control you, I don’t believe in it,” he interrupted her and picked up one of her books. It was Wuthering Heights . Bront?.

“Interesting,” he muttered. “Wouldn’t have picked you for a hopeless romantic”

“I’m not,” she said, snatching the book out of his hand. “But I studied English literature for a year.” A horrific year, filled with people she never wanted to meet ever again.

He was way too nosy.

“You don’t look like an English lit person to me.”

“What do I look like to you?” she scuffed at him. “Serial killer? Black widow?”

He chuckled again. Kind of cheeky this time, a corner of his mouth twitching. But he did not answer.

“So why didn’t you finish?”

“Wasn’t my thing.”

“What is your thing, then?” he asked while his eyes wandered over all the other titles.

“Stop being nosy.”

“You don’t know. That’s why you’re avoiding my question.”

Gods, can he please stop behaving like he has it all figured out? Like I am an open book to him?

She didn’t answer. Instead, she went for the fridge, opened it, took out the pizza box from yesterday, and placed herself on the counter. Taking out a slice, she glanced over to him. Maybe it would scare him away, he surely wasn’t a leftover guy.

Only it did not. Much to her annoyance, he strode over to her, turned the box around so he could see what was in there, and stared at it as if there was a piece of art in there.

“Chicken with broccoli and teriyaki-sauce, help yourself,” she said with a challenging scuff at him, feeling he wouldn’t be a guy who’d love to experiment with food. More like the control freak eating only healthy stuff.

“Interesting choice,” he said while the corners of his mouth almost twitched into a grin. Which was, undeniably, sexy.

With one swift movement of his arm, he gripped the wrist of her left hand, where she held the slice of pizza in. He pulled, and she held it steady. With his head slightly tilted, he cocked an eyebrow, and as he stared her down, she gave in and let him take control over her hand. He moved her hand in front of his face and took quite a luscious bite of the pizza.

The whole situation was so weird, she was sure she was dreaming. And yet something about it was so real – so raw and out of the ordinary – it was kind of hot. A hot stranger eating old, cold pizza out of her hand in her excuse of an apartment.

“Better than I thought,” he said while chewing. This guy sure had no manners, although something about it was also refreshing. Chris had always been so tight about societal expectations and manners, the little hypocrite.

He then wiped with his thumb over his bottom lip.

Why is it so hot to watch?

Without warning, he grasped for her jaw and pressed his thumb between her slightly parted lips into her mouth.

“Suck it clean,” he ordered.

Holy shit .

Flabbergasted didn’t even touch the weirdness of it. Yet, it was so arousing, she couldn’t help but act. So, she let her tongue trail around his thumb and sucked it, once, and then let go of it.

Judging by the malicious, knee-wobbling grin appearing on his face, it must have been satisfactory.

“So, what’s the story behind the room with the stabbed couch?” he asked as conversational as nothing had happened.

“Found my best friend fucking my fiancé, well, not-anymore-fiancé, on it. Last week. They got married today, found out via a post on Instagram.”

Saying it out loud, hearing it in the open, it was so abstruse it almost made her laugh.

“Reasonable reaction.”

“You think?”

I thought it to be more like a total overreaction of unregulated emotions.

“ Well, better than stabbing them, isn’t it?”

“I suppose.”

Why is nothing weird with or to him? There is not a single trace of judgment in his eyes with their curious stare.

“I wouldn’t have been so reasonable,” he said, brushing back his curly hair with his hand.

Gods, he is so damn hot . How much I want to grasp that hair.

“Figured as much,” she said, while taking in every detail of his face now that she felt like herself again.

His skin was impeccable, something in his eyes had changed, they weren’t as cold as before, but they still looked as if he’d take out the big guns, literally, not figuratively - if necessary.

Well, maybe both, who knows.

He was the kind of toxic masculinity guy, believing he ruled the world. The Alpha, and everyone was beneath him. And rules, as much as laws, didn’t apply to him.

“Based on what?” he asked, the right corner of his mouth twitching slightly up.

“The overall appearance.” And as he looked inquiringly at her, she added, “I observe as well.”

“Noticed. So, what did you gather?”

“Enough.” She took another bite of the pizza with a small, smug grin on her face. It was like a little game they played, and it was as fun as it was annoying.

Without warning, he stepped around her knee and pushed himself between her legs, that dangled down the counter. His hands gripped her by the thighs and pulled her hard against him.

His scent. Holy shit.

And while she just let him do it in absolute bewilderment, with her cold pizza in one hand, he gripped the back of her ahead and a chunk of her hair by the roots.

He then tilted his head and took her in before he leaned in on her. Slowly, he trailed – without touching her skin – his lips from her collarbone to her neck towards her ear while breathing her in. It was like a hunter sniffing its prey. But instead of backing away, she let herself be consumed by the prickling shudder running through her body, goosebumps spreading all over her skin.

The voice then whispering in her ear was so dark, so dangerous, and damn, the hottest thing ever happening to her. “How I’d love to fill that venomous mouth of yours with my hard cock and fuck it till you beg me for mercy.”

The moment he said it, the pizza dropped out of her hand onto the floor. Her heart had skipped some beats and now raced, filled with dark desire. There he was, showing his true face for the first time.

But instead of running, she moaned only from his words and touch, filling her entire existence with longing fire. They hit her core like a bomb, right where her deepest, darkest, and most feral desires lingered. Everything in her vibrated. An absolute, engulfing anticipation, driven by lust, betraying her righteous feminist existence. Never had anyone used dirty words like those for her, but hell, it was good.

“Your scent is phenomenal,” he whispered with a deep growl, now trailing back down her neck with his lips only a millimeter away from her skin, leaving her with a sizzling feeling of tension between them. And before she could brace herself, he took out his tongue and licked from her collarbone up to her ear.

Damn.

He tasted her. Tasted her like a reaper’s quarry.

Was it weird? Yes. Double yes. But it was also fucking hot.

When his tongue reached her earlobe, he nipped and sucked it in for a moment before trailing his lips over to hers. Only instead of kissing her, he licked with his tongue over her lips too.

“Mhhhhm,” he breathed, hot against her skin. “You taste as good as you smell.”

“Do I?”

“Yes, sweet like summer rain, salty like the waves of the ocean. The perfect symphony, consuming all the senses.”

It was probably the cheesiest thing someone had ever said about her. It was like in one of her favorite books. The all-consuming male, saying all the right things. Only that those men didn’t exist outside books and if they did, they were serial killers, vampires, or mafia. In other words, dangerous and more than unrealistic.

And yet, her mind played a movie in her head, how he would grasp her, kiss her with this all-consuming longing, rip her clothes off, and fuck her right here and there. Only the thought of it made her core prickle so intensely that she rolled her hips against his body. Bewitched by his scent and presence, she melted into his touch, much to her own annoyance.

“Tell me what you want.”

She bit her lower lip. There was no way she would put into words what she just saw him doing in her mind.

“I’m the only one biting that lip.” And he forcefully gripped her jaw. “Speak.”

The way his tone changed, how demanding he got, underlined what she already knew. And if someone else, anyone, would’ve ordered her around like this, she would have been repulsed the very second. But here she was, being drawn to him by an invisible rope she could not explain.

It was hot, and it somehow quietened her mind. But not only her mind, her soul, too. Right now, right here, there was nothing she had to conceal, no mask she had to wear. Her soul stripped to its rawest part of being by a dangerous stranger. And whatever her mind told her to stay away, she did not hear it because he vanished her overthinking. There were no more consequences, no more poor decisions. There was just this sweet moment of freedom she had never felt before. It was so fucking dangerous, but damn, what did she care?

She stared straight into his eyes while he held her fixed, taking her time to answer as she would not give the satisfaction of having her just that easy. And then she bit her lip once again, which triggered exactly the reaction she wanted. The fire it lit in his eyes burned her down to the core of her existence.