Page 38 of Silent Stalker

"Where are you going?" She takes a step toward me.

I smile, keeping my voice light. "I'll be right back. Need to grab something from the car."

The night air is biting as I step outside. Mist rises from my mouth in cloudy puffs as I draw in sharp breaths of the frigid air to calm my excitement. Excitement I rarely feel anymore.

The barn door creaks as it swings shut behind me, leaving Clara alone in the dim light. I jog to my car, my heart pounding for a different reason. In and out of the trunk in a flash, I grab what I need: the mask.

Masks have always fascinated me, but this one holds particular significance. It's the key to my true self, an anchor to the darkness that fuels me. The mask represents a part of me that only a select few have ever seen, and I want Clara to see it, too.

I pull the mask over my face, the familiar fabric settling against my skin. The scent of leather and desire surrounds me, pushing me further into the abyss that calls to me. My pulse races as I imagine her reaction, the fear mixed with desire I know she'll feel.

I pause outside the barn door, my palm resting on the worn wood. Inside, her breath comes in shallow pants. She tries to hide it, but I hear the subtle hitch in her breathing, smell the scent of her arousal that cuts through the musty air of the barn.

She knows what's coming, and she wants it. Just like I do.

I push open the door, the hinges squealing in protest. Clara's eyes widen when she sees me, the mask transforming my presence.

I say nothing, simply watching her. The mask gives me power, a sense of being untouchable. I own the darkness within and without, letting it consume me.

She inches away like a cornered animal, her gaze bound to mine in a dance of terror and fascination. "Silas... what are you doing?"

My actions will speak louder than words ever could. I stalk forward, relishing how she scurries backward.

"No," she whispers, but it lacks conviction. Her eyes dart around the barn, searching for an escape route. "Please... don't."

But the plea isn't genuine.

I sense her plan a moment before she acts. Her eyes flicker to the left, toward an open stall. She spins, ducking into the shadows. Her movements are clumsy, hampered by her heels.

I chuckle. "You can't hide from me."

The stall gives her nowhere to run, but she refuses to come out. I step forward, anticipation building inside me like a coiled spring ready to snap.

Her rapid breaths echo off the walls, a metronome counting down to our inevitable confrontation. Her heartbeat matches the rhythm, a pulse visible in her neck. Arousal, fear—or both. I inhale, letting the scent of her fill me. She's close. My fingers twitch, yearning to wrap around that tender throat.

I take a deliberate step forward, the hay matted on the floor crunching under my feet. In the dim light, I spot her shoulder pressed against the wall. Her chest rises and falls, rapid and shallow.

With two long strides, I'm upon her. I slam her against the wall, my forearm pressing into her collarbone. She gasps, eyes flaring wide. Her breaths puff against my mask, fogging the air between us.

"Hey there, beautiful." I lean in, pressing myself against her.

Her scream fills the barn, piercing through the silence. Arousal pulses through me like an electric shock. I slam my hand over her mouth, muffling the sound.

God, I love this. The fight in her, the fire. It stokes my hunger, sending sparks of desire straight to my cock.

Clara thrashes, her fists beating against my chest. The impact does nothing to deter me; I welcome the wildness, the struggle. Her mouth opens wide, teeth biting down on my palm. I tense, relishing the rush of pain. This close, I can feel her breath against my skin, her lips warm against my flesh.

Let her bite. Let her fight. It will make her surrender that much sweeter.

Her eyes, wide and terrified, plead with me to stop. But I know she doesn't truly want that. Not yet.

"Please." The word is little more than a breath against my hand.

But I'm far from finished.

I lean in, my lips brushing her ear. "Use your safe word and I'll stop," I whisper. "But if you don't..." I increase the pressure on her wrists, pinning them above her head. "I'll take what I want."

She doesn't use it. Her chest rises and falls rapidly beneath my touch, her pulse thrumming with desire. She growls, a feral sound that ignites every nerve ending in my body. Our eyes lock, and in that moment, I see the truth she's been hiding—her desire for this—for me.

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