Page 74 of Snowman

He was there.

The deer skull mask covered his face, those hollow eye sockets boring into me. His bare chest shimmered, every muscle tensed and alive under his skin. He still had the black jeans on from earlier, but now his hand gripped an axe.

A scream tore out of me, and I sprinted down the last few steps, my legs wobbling. It was useless, I hit the bottom, and his hand was already in my hair, yanking me back so hard I thought my neck might snap.

"It's my fucking turn now," he growled, pulling me closer until I could feel his breath against my ear. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting."

Panic took over. I didn't think, I just reacted. My elbow drove into his stomach with everything I had. His grip loosened, and I broke free, running toward the front door.

It was locked.

"No, no, no!" I clawed at the lock, my fingers trembling. I spun around, desperate, and there he was, laughing, enjoying the whole fucking thing.

He raised the axe, and it came down, slamming into the door behind me. I screamed again, but it didn't stop him. He just kept laughing.

This thing, whatever it was, didn't have a shred of humanity left. It felt like I was looking at some kind of revenant, something that had crawled out of the woods to hunt me.

I ran, slipping past the door and into the living room. My foot caught on the carpet, and I went down, the air knocked out of me.

I tried so hard to get up, but his hand closed around my ankle. He didn't just grab me, he dragged me. The carpet burned against my skin as I clawed at it, trying to hold on to anything. He didn't stop until we were back at the staircase.

The mirrored steps caught everything. His mask, his body, and me reflected in broken pieces.

"Birdie," he said, tilting his head. "What a cute little name. But you're notjustcute, are you?"

I didn't answer. I couldn't. My throat was too tight.

"You like this, don't you?" he taunted, his tone almost playful. "Being chased. Tsk, tsk, tsk."

He shoved me further up the stairs. My body collapsed onto the cold mirror, I felt the glass dig into my palms as I tried to push myself upright.

Before I could move, he was on me, his full weight pressing me down. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think.

His mask was just a breath away from my own, his fingers tracing a slow path beneath my sweater, across my chest. Yet, there was no discomfort, no fear. I knew it was Thor, even if he wasn't fully aware of it at that moment.

He lifted my sweater over my head and used it to bind my hands above me. His face moved down, traveling from the rise of my breasts to the flat of my stomach, the silhouette of deer antlers framing my face.

Every brush of his skin against mine sent shivers rippling through me, but I didn't pull away. I craved for him. With one knee he nudged apart my thighs and bent his head lower still. My trousers lay in tatters around us, I was naked from earlier.

"Hold still," he commanded.

As I nodded, he widened the distance between my legs further apart. Turning my gaze to the reflective mirror of the railing next to me, I saw him dropping slowly towards me.

As his masked face hovered over mine, he lowered the antlers of his mask and glided on my clit with their tips. A soft moan escaped from between my lips as I sank lower onto him; this time feeling part of one horn slide inside me, locking me onto him.

The bone structure of the horn was shaped as an'L',with a shorter side at the base that now pierced me, and an extended higher half with three more protrusions on top.

As he moved between my thighs, the horns grazed against my butt hole, probing.

He removed his mask, drawing nearer, the horns persisting within me, securing the mask onto me as he drove the horns deeper within. I completely surrendered myself to him. Both horns were lodged inside me; he was thrusting them further in and I craved for more.

"You're soaked," he said, retracting one of the horns from within me.

He freed my hands from the sweater and commanded, "Turn around and kneel."

I turned around, my palms resting on the middle step, while my knees found comfort on the step beneath it. I could feel how wet I was, I could feel how the drops fell onto the mirrored floor, and my legs were wide open for him,spine curved into an arch and I begged for more.

He broke both horns off the mask and moved closer, his face hovering above, lips parted, saliva sliding down to my backside, and he poked it with his finger before sliding his thumb inside. I sobbed, my knees buckled. He pulled out his finger and slowly stuck the horn inside, inch by inch.

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