Page 179 of Hunting Pretty

Scáth stepped in close. So close I could barely breathe.

“What about some light suffering?” he said, eyes flashing, his lips brushing against mine, his chest pressing against mine when he inhaled. “Just a little distress.”

His fingers brushed up the outside of my thigh under my skirt, and need rushed through me.

Was he trying to seduce me into saying yes to torture?

“Some shallow knife play,” he said as his fingers slid between my legs and found my wet slit again. “Just enough to make him bleed, but not enough to bleedout.”

My eyes fluttered closed as I repressed a moan, not wanting a waking Dr. Vale to hear me and realize what Scáth was doing to me.

“That isn’t fair,” I gasped.

I placed my hand on his chest, against his racing heart, his cock swelling against my leg.

He got off on this.

I wanted to be more revolted by Scáth’s true nature. His need for violence and pain. But I wasn’t.

A rush of warmth spread through my chest, making my heart race. A tingling coursed through my arms and legs as goosebumps rose on my skin, and a shiver of anticipation ran down my spine.

“What about a little… choking?” he asked, as he pushed two fingers into my soaked and swollen pussy.

Goddammit. How could he make me so needy for him again so soon?

While he was talking about torture. And while a crazed abusive therapist bled out on the floor behind us.

What was wrong with me?

Scáth thrust his fingers in and out of me as he rubbed my clit with his thumb.

“Come on…” he whispered into my ear, sending goosebumps down my spine, “just a teeny tiny bit of torture? It can be so…effective, no?”

I clung to him, my fingers digging into his shoulder as he curled his fingers around to push at my G-spot.

Pleasure slammed through me.

I didn’t care anymore that we had an audience. That the audience was crawling away from us in a feeble attempt to get away.

I came hard, crying out.

I sagged against Scáth, my breaths coming out in rushes against his chest. “H-he’s getting away.”

The ice of Scáth’s eyes was consumed by his dilated pupils as he held my chin, eyebrow arched expectantly. “There’s no one in the building this late at night. And he won’t get far.”

I sighed.

Maybe Scáth was right. Maybe you had to become a little bit of a monster in order to catch one.

“Fine,” I said, giving in. “Just a little bit of torture.”

A dark smile lit up Scáth’s blood-smeared face.

I pointed a finger at him. “But don’t you dare kill him.”

His teeth nipped my finger before he kissed the tip of it. “As you wish, my dark queen.”

Then Scáth turned toward Dr. Vale who’d started sobbing.

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