RED NOTES AND KISSES-Chapter 67: FRIDA -

She felt a gentle motion, her body shifting as if floating.

It was strange yet soothing, like soft caresses gliding over her skin.

The sensation was luxurious at first, the silk-like touch lulling her into a haze of comfort.

She surrendered to it, wanting nothing more than for the sensation to continue, its gentle strokes coaxing her into a daze.

But then, something shifted.

Her body tensed as unease slithered its way into her mind. She gasped, her chest rising and falling with shallow, panicked breaths.

When she opened her eyes, she was greeted with nothing but darkness.

She blinked once, twice, still, nothing. The darkness pressed down on her, suffocating, an overwhelming void that swallowed her whole.

"Hello?" Her voice trembled as she spoke into the blackness.

She tried to move her hands, but they wouldn’t budge. A sharp clank echoed in the stillness, the unmistakable sound of metal against metal.

Panic clawed its way up her throat as she tried her other hand, no difference.

Her breath hitched, her pulse thundered in her ears. She shifted, searching for the ground, but her feet found only air.

There was no surface. No stability. Her heart plummeted, her stomach twisting painfully.

"Hello?" she called again, louder this time.

No answer.

The silence was deafening, broken only by the rapid, uneven rhythm of her breaths. She trembled, pulling against the restraints on her wrists.

The cold bite of steel against her skin confirmed her fears–cuffs.

"Who’s there?" Her voice wavered, laced with desperation.

Still, no answer.

Then, footsteps. Slow, deliberate, and closing in.

"Stop right now!" she shouted, her voice sharp with false bravado. "I’ll call the cops, I swear!"

The footsteps stopped, but the silence that followed was even more terrifying.

She felt him before she saw him, his presence was a weight in the room, a shadow in the darkness.

"Laz?" she whispered, her voice cracking.

Still, no response.

Her breath hitched as something soft...leather?

Brushed against her skin. It trailed down her legs, its touch featherlight but deliberate. Her body tensed as fear collided with an inexplicable, maddening thrill.

"Please, just answer me!" she pleaded.

A deep voice cut through the void, smooth and chilling. "You’re breaking the rules."

She gulped as something cold and unyielding clasped around her ankle, locking her in place.

Her chest heaved, her emotions a chaotic mess. Was it fear? Excitement? She couldn’t tell anymore.

The leather returned, gliding up her legs. The texture against her skin was intoxicating, drawing out a shudder she couldn’t suppress.

"No questions," he murmured, his voice low and commanding.

A sharp smack landed on her thigh, and she gasped, her body jerking at the sudden sensation.

"Oh..." The sound escaped her lips before she could stop it.

He moved closer, his breath warm against her ear. "Does this excite you, Frida?"

Her mind screamed, but her body betrayed her.

Smack!

The impact landed on her ass, sharp yet oddly electrifying.

"Oh!"

"Yes?" His voice was a velvet challenge. "No?"

Another strike.

"Ah!" she cried, the sound mingling shock and something else entirely.

"Answer me," he demanded, his tone brooking no argument.

"Yes!" she panted, her voice shaky but honest.

The leather disappeared, replaced by something lighter—a feather? Its soft strokes danced over her skin, igniting nerve endings she didn’t know existed.

The sensation was different now, replacing the cold leather with something lighter. It trailed over her skin, making her shudder. His voice was smooth and seductive as he spoke.

"Good girls get feathers," he murmured, his tone a wicked caress. "Bad girls get leather."

Her breath hitched as he teased, "So tell me, Frida, are you my good girl?" He paused, letting the anticipation build. "Or are you my bad girl?"

Her pulse quickened, and her heart raced as the feather moved slowly from the soles of her feet, tickling her, and she giggled despite herself. "Hey, that tickles," she managed to say, her voice shaky with a mix of nerves and excitement.

The feather traveled higher, tracing circles on her thighs, teasing the sensitive skin there. It circled her nipples, leaving them hard and aching. She arched into the touch, her breath hitching.

"Fuck!" The word slipped out, and he chuckled, dark and low.

The feather rested on her panties, and it hit her, she was naked.

The realization came just as the feather began tracing the edges of the fabric. It teased her mercilessly, the faintest pressure brushing over her most sensitive spot.

She whimpered as he shifted her panties aside, something cold and smooth replacing the feather.

A small, chilling ball pressed against her clit, sending a sharp thrill through her body.

"What–" she gasped, unable to form the question.

"You’re breaking the rules again," he murmured, stepping away.

She nearly sobbed at the loss, her body trembling with need. "Such a bad girl."

Smack!

The leather struck her again, and she jerked, the cold steel of the cuffs digging into her wrists.

"Fuck, this is messed up," she whispered, her voice a mix of shame and arousal.

Smack!

Her back arched, a cry tearing from her lips as the sensations drove her closer to the edge.

And then water.

A sharp, steady stream hit her body, shocking her senses as she realized they were in a bathroom.

Her mind spun. She was hanging from the bathroom rails, helpless as the pressure of the water hit her most sensitive places.

Lord, how did he know the right spot aim for, she was seeing fucking stars at this pressure, she had to hold onto his neck for support.

He pressed against her from behind, his heat a stark contrast to the icy water. She was throbbing, legs wide open, shaking "oh...God!"

The pressure built, coiling tighter and tighter until it snapped.

Her body quivered, the sensations overwhelming her. She was holding on by a thread, her breaths coming fast and shallow. "I told you, I was coming for you..." His deep voice sent chills down her spine, flashing red notes of fear through her mind.

And then, his voice dropped lower, smooth and hypnotic. "Come for me," he commanded, the words igniting something deep within her.

Her breath hitched, her body obeyed before her mind could catch up. She shattered, pleasure rippling through her in waves so intense her vision blurred, helpless under the spell of his presence.

"Fuck!" she cried out as her head fell back against his shoulder.

"Holy fuck!" she cried, her body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over her, her body trembling in the aftermath.

Darkness swallowed her again.

------

Frida jolted upright in bed, gasping for air.

The room was bright–early morning light streamed through the curtains. She looked at the clock: 6:30 a.m.

Her heart pounded as she threw off the sheets. She was fully dressed in her pajamas. No marks on her wrists, no signs of anything... unusual.

But her body told a different story. She was sweating, flushed, her cheeks warm to the touch.

She glanced beside her, Laz wasn’t in bed.

Panic bubbled to the surface as she scrambled out of bed, grabbing her clothes and heading for the door.

"Frida?" His deep voice stopped her in her tracks.

She turned, wide-eyed, to see him standing there. He was fully dressed for class, looking every bit the picture of calm with his sweater and glasses, a steaming mug of coffee in hand.

"Did you sleep okay?" he asked, his gray eyes curious.

Her heart hammered. "What the fuck happened last night?"

He frowned, clearly confused. "You slept like a baby, that’s what happened. You kicked me out of bed, by the way. Forgot what a terrible sleeper you are."

She stared at him, searching his face for answers.

"Didn’t we...?"

"Didn’t we what?" he asked, brow furrowing.

Her words faltered. Could it have all been a dream?

"You whimpered all night," he said softly, his tone laced with concern. "Was it another nightmare?"

Her mind raced, replaying every vivid moment. Nightmare? Dream? Reality? She couldn’t tell anymore.

"I’m sorry for leaving the bed if you’re mad," he added, stepping closer. His presence felt suffocating, his height and warmth trapping her between him and the door. "But you were kicking me all night."

"I... I think I need some space," she managed to say, her voice barely a whisper.

He nodded, taking her hand and pressing a kiss to her fingers. "I understand. Yesterday was a lot for you."

The double meaning in his words sent her thoughts spiraling.

He handed her backpack and a brown paper bag. "Try not to overwork yourself today, okay? Should I drop you off?"

She shook her head. "No, it’s fine."

The door beeped as he stepped back, giving her space. She bolted, running so fast she barely felt the elevator doors close behind her.

But his words echoed in her mind: I’m coming for you.

Her heart pounded as a terrifying thought gripped her.

Was Laz the killer?