Page 12 of Ghosts of Halloween

“Come on, now. One long breath in. Do it with me.”

And I obey. Goddam me, but I obey.

I hear his slow, calm intake of breath behind me, and I mimic him, even though my body’s shaking, and it feels like my lungs have lost half of their capacity. The ropes dig into my skin, and my ribcage is tight with fear and adrenaline, all my muscles tense.

“And now breathe out. Slowly.”

His controlled exhalation fans over my skin, ruffling the hair framing my face, and I whimper, squirming, and exhale in a big rush, gasping in a quick, shaky breath.

“And you were doing so well,” he says, sounding amused rather than angry. “Here. Small sips. It’s water.”

The edge of a plastic cup presses to my lips, and I smell it before drinking. Yes, it’s just water. It helps to calm my burning throat and rinse out the taste in my mouth. I drain the cup, and he puts it away.

“Very good. Just do what I say, and we’ll all have a great time. The best. I promise.”

He chuckles, and it sounds like he knows something I don’t, a bitter joke, but I don’t dwell on what it might mean. He touches me again, and it’s heaven. I’m drowning in sparks.

His fingers travel down my collarbone, stroking across it, and I shake against him, my body completely outside my control. Sparks explode under my skin, a heady, powerful rush that tightens my muscles and makes me hyper aware of him.

The clean, male scent mixing with the warm smell of burning candles. His sheer presence, which tells me he’s bigger than me, taller, more powerful. His touch, so very gentle and sweet, goosebumps breaking out all over my skin.

I wish he’d finally do it. Fondle my tit and end this farce before I fall in too deep.

His fingers skirt right over the low neckline of my dress, and my breath hitches in my throat. He hums, a low, pleasant sound, and moves his hand to the side, fingers stopping on my right shoulder.

“Such a pretty thing,” he says, voice thick with something I can’t identify. Maybe it’s anticipation. Maybe lust. “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time, princess.”

And then, his fingers trail down. And down. Right to the place where my stump and prosthetic meet.

Sparks fly, enveloping my body and mind, and I slump in the ropes, falling against him, my body brushing against the solid heat of his.

This time, I can’t hold back the moan.

6

Jack

I stand still, holding my breath. When she fell back against me, I took an automatic step closer, and now she’s pressed to my front, her shaky back against my chest, the hair at the top of her head tickling my lips.

Her bound hands dig into my lower stomach, and she yanks them up, her elbows flaring outward.

And now, her ass pushes into my groin, and I’m so fucking hard, it’s unnatural.

Everything feels fresh and new, the points of contact burning across my skin. The feel of her is everything I’ve craved for the last six years, and the way she fits against me is so fucking perfect. I was never a romantic, but damn, right now, I can’t help thinking she was made for me.

But that’s not the worst. What scares me is the tight, hot feeling in my chest.

She’s so fucking soft. So vulnerable and fragile. She shakes like a little bird, wounded and left out in the cold, andfucking shit, how I want to make her warm.

Make her safe.

And that is never going to happen. We agreed. Caden and Silas will be here any minute, ready to start her corruption, and we all know what the grand finale must be. I know what she did, and they do, too. I know she deserves it.

After tonight, our princess will never feel warm or safe again.

I want to recoil. I need to stop touching her to get my head on straight, butfuck it all to hell, I can’t. This part is necessary. This is how we’ll break her, and damn, but it’s working. Too fucking well.

She was supposed to fight. To call me names. I expected her to scream and struggle, fighting for freedom. This was supposed to take effort. Instead…

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