Page 12 of Theirs to Chase

“I understand.” I swallow.

“That’s my good fucking girl,” he growls, and my clit throbs in response.

Terror strikes me when he lifts a knife, pressing it between my breasts above the fabric of my dress.

“Do you trust me?” he asks ominously.

The inner walls of my core tighten at the look he’s giving me. “No,” I breathe.

“Good, because I want to play with my food before I eat it.”

His hand drops dangerously low, removing my dress and throwing it beside my feet. He tears my tights apart, a cool breeze sweeping over my skin as he helps me out of them, then slowly slides my panties down my legs. I’m speechless as he stuffs them inside his pocket, then leans closer to me to ram two of his fingers inside me. It burns at first, but I quickly become used to it. I’m fucking wet for him.

He stretches me out until I’m moaning, his other hand coming up to cover my mouth. He gives me a silent warning, and I just fucking remember what kind of situation we’re in. It makes my stomach drop—our friends were just murdered and he’s in here, fucking me with his fingers.

“We need to stop,” I beg him, all lust thrown out the window.

For a split second, anger fumes inside him that he quickly conceals, but I saw it—enough to make me uneasy. “Shh, let me take good care of you. Don’t fight it. I’ll be gentle,” he croons, and my traitorous pussy begs for him.

“Feel how you clench around my fingers? You don’t want me to stop.”

Another finger enters me, curling as he hits my G-spot. He’s right. I’ve never been this turned on before—the thrill and danger mixes into a noxious concoction.

“More,” I moan as his fingers thrust inside me, bringing me close to another orgasm.

“Your begging is like a fucking prayer. What do you want, little pumpkin?”

I buck my hips, desperately craving him.

“You,” I breathe, eyes rolling to the back of my head as his fingers curl.

“How many fingers can you take?” he whispers in my ear, and my inner walls clench around him the moment he pushes a fourth finger inside.

“Oh fucking god,” I moan, the stinging sensation soon transforming into pleasure.

He holds me steady by my waist as he makes me fall apart, nearly losing my balance from the rough force of the orgasm hitting me out of nowhere.

“So beautiful when you come,” he praises.

I’m panting by the time he’s done, expecting him to take a step back. “We should call the police,” I breathe.

“Oh, baby. Did you think I was done with you?” He laughs.

His voice hints at a playfulness of wanting more ofthis, but his words cause alarm inside me, as if they have a double meaning. I lick my lips, trying to decide whether to stop. If I say the safe word, will he stop? Or am I trapped with a predator?

My legs tremble from the aftermath of the orgasm, and the aching need for more is undeniable.

“I’m clean. Are you on birth control?” he asks.

“Yes,” I nod. “And me too.”

The smirk tilting his lips is creepy, sending a yearning within me as I dip my mouth to his lips, capturing them in mine. They taste like chewing gum and mint as he breathes. His intensity is brewing, filling the entire small house until it leaves no place for anything else. This man oozes sex, and I can’t wait to feel him around me.

“Distract me. If you don’t give me what I want,” I taunt, teasingly. This only seems fitting for the night of horror—Halloween. “I will slit your throat.”

I pointedly look at the fake prop of a knife—one I’m sure he found somewhere in the haunted house.

“Oh?” A dark laugh escapes him as his eyes narrow. “Maybe I’ll slit yours before you get the chance,” he growls, leaning in until his breath is hot against my ear. “And fuck your corpse while it’s still warm.”

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