Persephone

7. The Strange Man

When Persephone opened her eyes at first all she saw was blurred lines. After blinking her eyes a few times though, her surroundings became clear. Around her was an elaborate room that seemed fit for a princess.

She lay in a bed carved from a deep mahogany, intricate designs running up the four bed posts. The linens were of a light cream which accented the wood, and blanketing her in a soft comfort. A fire place lay in the corner; crackling away despite the coming summer. Although, the room was no uncomfortably warm with it burning, this was confusing. Just in front of this fire place was a sitting area with the same accents as the bed she lay in. In one of the chairs, with his back to her, sat a man.

"Oh good, you are awake," his voice was deep and rumbling as he spoke to her from across the room.

With wide eyes, Persephone watched as the figure, belonging to the deep voice, rose from the tall backed chair.

He was tall to say the least, and Persephone knew, if she had been standing, she would feel dwarfed next to him. A black button down wrapped snugly around his torso, tucked into a matching pair of black dress pants. And, although the heavy curtains were drawn and the room was dark, Persephone could see his figure was drool worthy.

But it was when she caught sight of his face she gasped. It was the man from her dream.

A deep chuckle filled the room, sending shivers down her spine, "I see you remember me," then adding as he saw the small figure scramble across the large bed, "there is no need to fear me, my darling. I told you before," in an instant his body was nearly on top of hers, his face inches from her's, a small gasp leaving her lips as his next words came in a whisper, his breathe warm and sweet on her face, "but I lied."

He slid an arm beneath her fragile body, lifting her back off the bed, pressing her chest to his own as he buried his face in her neck. Yet another gasp left Persephone's lips as fear coursed through her veins.

Breathing in, the man let out another deep chuckle, but this one was lower, darker, raising her heart rate even more, "You smell delicious."

What.

Persephone struggled to get away from this strange man, "Who are you? Let me go!"

But froze when she felt a razor like object graze the skin of her neck, "I wish I could have," the sharpness intensified, "just a taste," he pulled away, supporting her body with one hand on the small of her back, the other caressing the side of her face, looking down into her eyes. Once again Persephone was shocked by his strange eyes. "But not yet, my love. Not. Just. Yet." Dipping down, he once again inhaled her scent, before placing her back on the bed, her head on the pillow.

Seconds later he was across the room, standing by the door. Persephone raised herself to her elbows to watch as he put a hand on the door hand, "I will send in the maid. She will make you presentable for tonight."

In a blink he was gone, the door shut tightly behind him, leaving Persephone wondering just who this man was.