Page 15 of Haunt

Finally, after what feels like eternity, my nose presses to his skin, his entire length between my lips as he just holds me there like he enjoys the feeling of this. Just this, without anything else.

And with his soft exhale, maybe he does. Instinctively, I try to swallow, but the action just makes me jerk in discomfort while I try not to choke.

“Better not,” he warns. But he doesn’t follow it up with anything as he holds me there, his cock heavy and warm between my lips and on my tongue.

Finally he pulls his hips back a little, only to press them forward quickly, burying himself in my throat again amidst my sounds of protest. He does it again, and again; each movement is faster and a little more forceful than the last until he’s fucking my mouth with thrusts that have me shuddering.

My eyes water from the strain, and whines of discomfort sound around his cock whenever I have the breath for it. My throat already burns from Ravage choking me, and this certainly isn’t doing me any favors.

I can’t even swallow, so with a groan of frustration, I swipe away the saliva trickling down my chin with my free hand I can’tseem to decide what to do with.God,I wish I had the nerve to bite him. But I don’t even have the guts to hit him or sink my nails into his skin. There’s no way I can do something arguably worse.

Not to mention he’s so hard to read. He does nothing except fuck my mouth at his leisure, seeming unhurried and unbothered by anything else. Surely he has to consider that I could bite him, that I could absolutely sink my teeth into his cock and make this areallybad night for him as well.

It seems stupid to trust me when I’m definitely here against my will.

He pulls himself free, using his tip to trace my lower lip again as his grip softens in my hair. “Take a deep breath for me, sweetheart,” he tells me almost kindly as I swallow around the burn in my throat.

“Wait—” His grip tightens again, making me squirm on my knees and shiver in the cold closet. It’s as much of a warning as I need, so I fall silent and pant in shaky, nervous breaths. He gives me a few seconds before repeating himself.

“Deep breath.” He strokes over my hair as he says it, before readjusting his grip so his glove scrapes against my scalp. I’m too afraid to not do what he says. So, I take a deep breath and he thrusts into my mouth, burying himself all the way until I choke, tears streaming down my face from my watering eyes.

But he doesn’t let go or pull away this time. He holds me against him, my nose pressed to his skin as I writhe and try not to panic.

“Breathe through your nose.” He still sounds so patient, so unworried. I can’t stand how casual he seems, even when I’m having a fit with my mouth on his cock.

I do what he says without him needing to repeat it, trembling as I kneel on the dirty floor of a warehouse closet with a masked man’s cock buried in my throat. The thought makes a nervoussound bubble up my throat, and I can’t help but think of how ridiculous this would sound if I were ever to tell anyone.

But first, I have to make it out of here alive.

He moves again, but not so nicely this time. He fucks my face with deliberate, measured strokes, his length sliding against my tongue over and over. I swear I hear his purred praises, soft behind his mask, but my ears are full of the rush of blood and lack of oxygen while I keep my mouth open wide enough for my jaw to ache.

It isn’t until his rhythm falters that I realize he’s close to coming. The thought has me jerking backward, but the sound of his quiet, cruel laugh is stark in the closet. “No, little girl. You’re going to swallow it like a good girl.” His fingers tighten in my hair, a blatant threat, and I close my eyes desperately, a whine of protest in my throat.

Harrow doesn’t seem to give a damn. He doesn’t care one bit as he continues to use my mouth how he wants. His movements become faster, more erratic, and my grip on his belt tightens in response until he slams into me one final time. Once again, I find my nose pressed to his skin, but this time he holds me there as his cock pulses against my tongue with his release.

He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t speak or make a sound as he comes with his hand in my hair and his length so far down my throat I have no real choicebutto swallow. With a sigh, he pulls back, hand still in my hair, and gives my hair a quick, warning squeeze before he shifts backward to tuck himself into his black cargo pants. I can hear the sound of his zipper and the clink of his belt again, while my head spins and I focus more on breathing and calming myself down. The feel and taste of him is still heady on my tongue, and I wipe my wrist across my mouth with a frown I’m glad he can’t see.

His hands are back a few seconds later, cradling my face between them sweetly. “What am I going to do with you?” hemurmurs with a heavy sigh that sends a flicker of dread up my spine. “My sweet, stupid little girl.”

8

Whatever I’m goingto say, or do, or cry for is cut off by the sound of a gunshot. Harrow stiffens, one hand coming down to rest against my hair like he’s trying to comfort or reassure me. He sighs, low and long, and a second later my hoodie is dropped onto my head from the shelf above. I flinch but only take a moment before pulling it on over my head, not caring that I don’t have my bra as I scramble to my feet.

“If you know what’s good for you…” Harrow pins me back against the shelves, fingers stroking along my jaw. “You’ll stay right here while I figure out—” Another gunshot goes off, causing me to jump in surprise. He sighs once more, seeming more irritated than anything, and turns to open the door to the hallway.

“Stay,” he orders, as the light from the hallway illuminates the animal skull mask obscuring his face. Then he closes the closet door, leaving me alone in the dark once again, but this time with no weapon.

But I am for sure not going tostay put.When I hear another door open, I give it a few more seconds before creeping out into the hallway, wishing I still had the knife I stabbed Ravage with. But either way, I can’t just huddle in the closet. I can’t just hideand wait for him to come back, since I’m pretty sure Harrow is ready to slit my throat and throw me into a pit with the other dead bodies in the warehouse.

That thought makes me remember the eye squishing between my fingers, and I almost wretch. A shudder goes through me as I jog down the hallway silently toward the cracked open door leading to a different side of the warehouse. I hesitate, wondering if I should go back to the open area I know leads to the lobby and try to figure out a way to leave from there, since I know for a fact there’s a door to take me outside.

But I already tried that route, and it hadn’t worked out for me.

“Fuck it,” I murmur, biting down on my lower lip before slowly opening the door further with my fingertips. It leads me into another big room, though this one is lined with larger glass windows I could probably jump through if I’m brave enough to tough out all the glass shards raking through my skin. I look around, surprised that it’s actually sort of well lit, and my eyes land on tables spaced along the wall, each of them covered with stacks and piles of different things.

And differentmasks.A few of the masks I recognize are there. The doll mask, the clown mask, and the scarecrow hood. But the emperor mask isn’t, and neither is the distorted ghost mask. There are normal clothes on some of the tables, jeans and t-shirts, while a black lacy dress is draped over the table that’s littered with maimed toys and a doll mask.

I step closer, reaching out to run my fingers over the doll-like mask before moving on to the next table. The room is large enough that I don’t immediately hear the murmur of voices until a hysterical, snarling laugh rings against the glass above me. Being this close to the windows, I realize my plan of jumping through them was a little too ambitious when I’d have toclimbup to them in the first place.

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