Page 12 of Collared

A hand curls its way around my waist, pressing deeper until it’s tightened itself like a fucking vice. “No!” I cry out. We go down, both of us, and panic clambers inside my system. Leaning forward, I try to steady myself on my flat hands in the ground, and the moment he lets go of my midriff, I start crawling away on all fours. An arm reaches over my shoulder, pulling me back with force. I cough and wheeze, eyes burning when I catch sight of the collar, dangling in front of my neck.

“No!” I let out again, pushing forward with all my strength, then kick up from the ground once more. The world is spinning, and I sure as fuck have stained my school uniform, but right now, I don’t care.

Without wasting another second, I thrust forward, feeling only a little wobbly on my knees before I work back into a steady jog. Whoever is hidden behind that silver mask is fit as fuck, because he catches up with me once more before I can get to full speed, roaring as he chases me down. Fear creeps up inside me and I don’t know where I’m going, too distracted by his presence. Too close, he’s too fucking close.

He's chasing me, hollering after me, cornering me. If he manages to tackle me once more, he’ll collar me. And then he'll fuck me.

This entire chase is a disaster. I should never have accepted that invitation. Should never have wanted to step up from being average. And why did I? Because I was curious about the secret frat organization that was supposedly housed in Monterrey Castle? Because I got the invitation and what…my ego was pumped? Was he the one who chose me?

Admit it, my little devil whispers. You wanted it.

You wanted more. More appreciation from your grandma. More admiration from the others. More respect from yourself.

I manage to create more distance between the two of us, but escaping him when he’s this close to me won’t be possible. So I do the one thing I probably shouldn’t.

I stop all of a sudden and turn around, making him slam into me. He’s heavier than I’d expected, but this time I'm prepared. Landing on the grass on my ass, I wait for him to crash onto me, before I wrestle him onto his back. His eyes widen in surprise when I straddle his thighs, and I raise my hand, jaw set and ready to attack…

Then I linger. “I’ve never hit a guy,” I blurt out.

Silver Mask smirks at that and a dimple appears in his chin. It's enticing and I hate myself for noticing. Hate myself for even thinking of him that way.

“You want to give me your best shot?” He asks. There’s that low rumble again. As if he's just messing with me. It’s fucking infuriating.

“I do,” is the only warning I give him, before I land a punch… in his palm. The fucker’s reflex is on point. He presses his fist around mine, holding both our hands tightly in place mid-air.

We're left staring at each other. Tilting his head, he glances at me with that same curiosity as he did before, only this time I can see his eyes from up close. It’s too dark outside to tell the color, but if I’d have to guess, I’d say that they are clear. Blue, or green perhaps.

"Now that you've missed your chance, I'm grabbing mine, Thurel," he rasps. My gaze widens at the sound of my name on his lips.

Are you the one who chose me?

He chuckles at my surprised gaze. "What, are you surprised I know your name?"

I tilt up my chin in defiance, furious and vulnerable at the same time. “No.”

He snorts. “So sweet, Thurel. Even your lies are sweet." Grabbing the collar in one hand, he holds it up by its silky rope and lets it dangle right in front of my nose. “You like?”

“To be collared like some fucking animal by you?" I growl. "Fuck, no.”

He barks out a laugh and leans in, using his other hand to grab me by my nape and pull me down. Up close, I can tell for sure that his eyes are clear. They are large, even behind the silver of his mask, its curvy lines teasing his sharp jaw in a way that makes it even more pointed. His nose is straight and long, practically touching mine now. And his scent... I breathe him in on one, deep inhale. He smells of sandalwood and some other spice.

My dick hardens as delicious flutters fill my stomach, and it's enough for my heart to thump faster. Panic kicks in and I push him down and scramble off of him. For a second he lies there, chuckling as his dark gaze flicks up at me. I swear I can feel it peeling my defenses away to catch my vulnerable predicament.

"I love to chase you, sweet Thurel," he mutters. "So let's extend our little game." Getting up from the ground, he turns to face me. “I’m going to count to ten.”

“Fuck you,” I grumble, “I’m not playing any games with you.” He laughs my insult away, instead giving me a little push toward the shrubs. “You've got ten seconds, angel, before I come and hunt you down." He lets out a growl that vibrates through my own chest in a swirl of hot desire I've never felt before. "One."

Gritting my jaw, I hate the way my face flushes. "You can't possibly be serious."

He grins as he blows me a kiss. "Oh, I'm very serious. Two."

"I—" I protest, but words don't come.

Silver Mask gives me another gentle push. "Three—I’d run if I were you."

"But what about..."

"Four…”

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