Page 40 of The Dead Don’t Scream
“Rhys isn’t here.”
“He’s outside.”
“He can’t hear you.”
“Then maybe I should scream louder.”
The mask scrapes my cheek as Callum turns my face.
“You enjoy provoking monsters?”
“I enjoy finding out what makes them stop pretending.”
His breath strikes my lips through the mask.
“And what am I pretending?”
“That you’re patient.”
Callum releases me. For one second, I think I pushed too far. Then his fingers close around the back of my neck. He presses my cheek against the altar.
“Color?”
His voice is rough. Wild.
“Green.”
He draws the black fabric tied around his neck free from beneath the burlap. The material slips over my eyes. Darkness swallows the chapel.
“Callum?”
“I’m here.”
The reassurance comes immediately. His palm travels slowly down my spine.
“You wanted sensory deprivation.”
“Yes.”
“You wanted to feel helpless without being helpless.”
“Yes.”
“You wanted a man who knew what you needed before you asked.”
My breathing quickens.
“Yes.”
His fingers slide between my thighs. Two press inside me without warning. I cry out. Callum curls them against a place that makes every muscle in my body contract.
“Did I find it?”
“Yes.”
He withdraws almost completely before thrusting them deep again. My hips jerk.
“Stay still.”
