The last thing she remembered was the cool silk of her dress sliding from her shoulders, pooling like a shadow at her feet on the moonlit floor. A scent of night-blooming jasmine and warm skin filled the air, thick and intoxicating, just before a presence, solid and silent, materialized from the deeper darkness of the room. A hand, not rough but unnervingly certain, covered her mouth, its heat a stark contrast to the sudden chill of fear that traced her spine. She felt the hard plane of a masculine chest press agat her bare back, still humming from the bath, every nerve ending screaming with a terrifying, unwanted awareness. His other arm encircled her waist, pulling her flush agat him, the fine wool of his suit an abrasive texture agat her nakedness, a brutal reminder of a world outside this violation. The struggle was brief, a muffled cry lost agat his palm as he began to move, steering her effortlessly away from the sliver of silver light cast by the window. Her own rapid heartbeat thundered in her ears, a frantic drum agat the oppressive silence he commanded with his sheer, unyielding strength. The familiar contours of her bedroom dissolved into an indistinguishable blur as he propelled her toward an open doorway she knew led to a deeper, unknown blackness. With a final, yielding shudder, she felt the last vestige of her sanctuary vanish, swallowed whole by the deliberate, inexorable advance of the night.
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