He sat and watched her in the dark, the enclosed confines of his car muffling all sound so that it was as if he was completely alone in a world where only one other person existed.
Her. The woman in the house.
It was his favorite time of the day, observing her as she bustled around the kitchen with her children. The three children were beautiful, and no doubt would grow up to be as attractive as their mother, but right now his focus wasn't on them, it was on the woman.
She was leaning over a bubbling pot, stirring the contents as she listened to the three-year-old boy. Her soft hair fell over her cheek and she automatically tucked it behind her ear, her movements graceful. He wished he could bring her hair to his face and inhale the scent. Apples. That's what her hair would smell like. He had been in her house. That was the shampoo he knew she used. And her favorite eau-de-toilette was green tea. The delicate scent had teased his nostrils when he had inhaled it from the bottle, making him close his eyes and imagine her spritzing little bursts under her ears, the pulse point in her throat and the tender skin on the inside of her wrists.
Even as his eyes tracked her movements while she put the youngest child, a daughter, in her high chair, he was thinking of how her soft skin would feel against his hands. Tonight was the night. He had looked on as she had loaded the children's luggage into the friend's car earlier, ready for a weekend away. When he had been in her room before, he had flipped through her organizer and had checked her appointments for the coming month. It was her and husband's anniversary on the weekend, and he knew she wasn't expecting him home for some time yet. For as long as he had been watching her, he had never seen her husband home before nine, unless it was one of the children's birthday. Which is why tonight was going to be the night.
The night when he would finally make her his.
He watched as she laughed at something the elder boy said, the love and laughter lighting up her face obvious even from this distance. He wondered if tonight would change her, make her different. He hoped so. He wanted to put his mark on her. A private and indelible sign of ownership that no one else would be able to see, but that she would always feel in her heart, her mind, her very soul.
While the woman ate dinner with her children and the friend that had now emerged from another part of the house, he checked the supplies which he had brought with him. It was all there. But then he was nothing if not meticulous. Which was why he was so good at what he did. Always prepared for every contingency, tonight was no exception. It was going to be a challenge, one he had looked forward to for a long time now. She wasn't working for the feds any more, but she had been pushing herself to get fit after the last child and he had seen the determined look on her face as she took herself off to the gym in the last few months. He did not underestimate the strength of her will or her focus.
It had been interesting though, seeing her submit to her husband when he had backed her into the kitchen counter, his hands groping her while he kissed her neck. She had laughed, standing quiescent and letting him do what he wanted to her for a few minutes before their eldest son wandered in and broke them apart, the grimace on his small face making them both laugh. But the man knew that what he had witnessed was not real submission, not even anything near it. After tonight she will know what that word meant. And he was going to be her teacher.
While the five of them were occupied with their dinner, he got out of his car, looking around to make sure that no one had spotted him before walking quickly around the side of the house. At the back door, he took the spare door key he had taken from the last time he had been in the house. Letting himself in quietly, he closed the door and paused. Hearing nothing, he walked through the laundry room and down the corridor, before taking the steps upstairs, grateful that they were carpeted so he didn't have to worry about muffling his footsteps.
He knew the layout of the house so he headed directly to the master bedroom and pulled the curtains closed. As it was already dark, he knew she won't notice the closed drapes when she came up to the room later. The room was dimly illuminated from the light over the staircase and he set his bag down on the bedspread, taking out the items he needed. He put the bag behind the night stand, then got into the closet, leaving it open a crack before settling in to wait.
It didn't take long. A few minutes after he heard the front door shut after the loud exchange of goodbyes, he heard her walk up the stairs. The lamp in the room turned on and he stood still, bracing himself in case she opened the closet. But she didn't. Instead she walked over to the dresser which was within his line of sight and pulled something red out of the second drawer. Then, turning towards the full length mirror, he watched as she held the short red baby doll camisole over herself. "Well, if he says he's too tired to have sex tonight and you're wearing this, he's going to wish he didn't keep his gun in the night stand."
The man in the closet felt his heart rate increase as the woman in the room started to undress. Each inch of smooth white skin she revealed made blood flow into his cock, swelling it until it was painfully hard even before she was completely naked. He only managed to get a glimpse of her front before she walked past him into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. When he heard the shower switch on, he closed his eyes, imagining that he was in there with her, lathering her wet, naked body with his hands and worshipping her perfect breasts with his hungry mouth. After that he would slam her up against the wall and take her violently from behind until she screamed his name in surrender. The shower turned off, interrupting his fantasy and he tensed, readying himself for the attack.
She walked out of the bathroom and stopped next to the bed. It was his cue.
Pushing the closet door smoothly open, it took him only three strides and then he was behind her. He shoved her down onto the bed, hearing her muffled scream as her face landed in the bedspread. The intruder held her down, straddling her hips as her legs kicked frantically and her arms swung wildly to try and free herself. But she was in an awkward position and he was too strong. And he was prepared. He took the handcuffs from his waistband and threw them next to her head, then took out the next object.
It was time to get down to business.
***
The woman struggled hard, trying to twist so that she could get onto her back and throw off her attacker. His hand that was on the middle of her back pushed her hard into the mattress, so hard that she could barely breathe, even with her head turned to one side. No matter how hard she kicked, she couldn't reach any part of him. Fear and panic overwhelmed her and she drew in a breath ready to scream her lungs out when she felt something cold and metallic rest against the skin of her temple.
It was a gun.
"Stop struggling and I won't hurt you." His voice was low and raspy, unrecognisable. The threat in his tone was not.
Yeah right. She had been in the bureau far too long to believe that line. Still, she stopped moving, her heart beating furiously in her chest. There was no need to antagonise him. She just had to do as he asked and bide her time. An opportunity to escape would come, sooner or later. But the next thing he said chilled her to the bone.
