Page 14 of Emperor of Havoc

My hand works inside my panties, my fingers alternately stroking my lips and sinking between them, rubbing my clit as my breath catches.

I picture what might have happened if I’d actually gone through with his request to meet him in Showa Kinen Park tonight. The fantasy runs rampant through my mind: images of the masked, shirtless giant with the muscles carved from marble, painted in tattoos. The man throbbing with savagery and malice, baseball bat casually slung over his shoulder, his demoniconimask leering, stalking after me through the woods of the park.

Emerging from behind every tree. Trailing my every step.

I gasp, running and twisting away from him. He only gets closer and closer, until suddenly those long, powerful fingers wrap around my throat from behind. He yanks me to the ground, ripping and cutting at my clothes. I tell him to stop, but he doesn’t.

He only touches me harder, more roughly.

My fingers plunge inside me, a choked whimper catching low in my throat as I pretend it’s him. My other hands slips up my neck to squeeze it, though it’s not nearly as satisfying. So I bring my hand to my mouth, sucking two fingers inside while pushing back against my other hand.

Wanting him. The darkness he promises. Fear and aching need blurring together.

A creak cuts through the silence, slicing into my thoughts like a blade. I freeze, my body stilling as the faintest shift of movement reaches my ears. It’s subtle, almost imperceptible: a shadow sliding against the others, a whisper of air displaced by motion.

For half a second, I’m sure I’ve imagined it. Then I feel it.

Darkness, sliding over me. A presence, lurking.

Eyes, raking over my skin.

I’m not alone.

Cold, sharp panic floods my veins as I start to twist onto my back. Before I can turn fully, a shadow lurches across the room.

A shadow with the leering, blank, black face of anonimask.

A hand presses me down, strong and unyielding, wrapping around the back of my neck and pinning me to the mattress.

I choke out the remains of a withered, silent scream as I flail and thrash. The hand only tightens, pushing me harder against the bed beneath me. My hips twist, my legs squirming and kicking. But it’s like fighting gravity or stopping time.

“Don’t move,” he murmurs, his voice low and laced with dark amusement.

My whole world goes still.

It’s him.

Kaiju.

I don’t know how, seeing as my location setting was off. But I don’t have the bandwidth to consider that right now. All I can process is the swirling, throbbing, explosive mix of pure panic and jolting excitement.

Every instinct screams at me to fight, to run. But his grip tightens just enough to make my breath hitch: his dominance as electrifying as it is suffocating.

“You should be more careful, Snowflake,” he says, his lips so close to my ear that his breath ghosts across my skin. “A little princess like you, unmasked and all alone in her father’s house… What would Daddy think if he saw you like this?”

The words hit me like a slap.

He called me princess.

He knows it’s Papa’s house.

He knows who I am.

For some reason, that’s even scarier than him being here, or trying to figure out how the fuck he got past all our security tobreak into my room undetected. Or evenhowhe knows who I am.

No, the most terrifying part, occupying my entire thought process, is that he knows who I amat all.

I’m utterly exposed in every conceivable way.

---