Page 45 of Striker

A twig snaps somewhere to my left, and I press my hand to my mouth to suppress my scream.

“We warned you not to run, Kitten,” Reaper calls, his voice just far enough away to tell me they must have been close behind me when I ran from the house.

“And now our pretty Princess is in trouble,” Striker yells, his voice closer. Too close.

My heart skips in my chest, and I press my hand to my throat like this will somehow slow it down.

He warned me. Striker told me what they’ll do if I left the house.

If you try to run, we will catch you.

Do you know what happens to naughty girls who try to run? They are caught and tied up. Wrists bound so tight it’ll make your pussy wet.

I’m so fucked.

“I’ll make a deal with you,” Reaper calls, his deep voice closer than before, but still behind me. “If you can outrun us, we’ll go easy on you.”

Viper’s cruel laughter shivers through me, even closer than Reaper and somewhere to my left. I turn my head, my eyes scanning the dark woods, looking for movement but see none. It’s just a blue-black night, thin branches bleached white by the moonlight, stretching toward the star-filled sky like boney fingers.

A twig snaps to my left.

My stomach drops. I scramble back onto my ass, pressing myself to the tree, trying to control my breathing.

“Maybe we’ll let you get back to the house,” Breaker says and my heart flutters when I realize he’s somewhere in front of me. “Before we tie you up and punish you.”

“What do you say, brothers?” Reaper’s voice rings from behind me, like he’s just on the other side of the tree I’m pressed against. “Let’s make a game out if it.”

Leaves crunch, and suddenly he’s all I see. A black mass with gleaming eyes. My scream tears from between my lips, but it’s cut off when his hand slams over my mouth.

“Pretty little Kitten likes to break rules,” Reaper growls, weaving his other hand into my hair and yanking me up onto my knees. Twigs and leaves cut into my bare skin. He drags me forward, making me practically crawl. “Or maybe you wanted us to catch you.”

On instinct, I open my mouth and then bite down. Hard. The sharp, coppery tang of blood fills my mouth, but he doesn’t remove his hand. He clamps it down harder, using his free hand to secure my head, until my nose is crushed and I can’t breathe, his blood smearing on my lips.

“Don’t you remember?” he asks cruelly. “I like the pain.Craveit.”

A scream builds in my throat, but then he drops his hand from my mouth, using it to grip under my arm, dragging me to my feet. I suck in a breath, stumbling against him as I’m forced up, biting down on my lip, cutting through sharply. Coppery blood hits my tongue, mixing his with mine.

His fingers snake into my hair, and he grips it by the roots, shoving me backward. My head hits the tree, but his hand absorbs the impact. His body presses to mine, molding to me, every curve and dip invaded by his hardness. Reaper’sthigh slides between mine, pressing to my core, and I gasp at the electric jolt that shoots through me. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to ignore the way my body thrums with awareness. The way his hard planes feel so right against my soft curves. The way the cold air skates across my heated flesh, and how the heavy sound of our breathing, almost animalistic, creates a primal need to throb between my legs.

I whimper when I feel his thick cock press into my belly.

“Oh, sweet innocent girl,” he grates. There’s a hint of something, almost like regret, but I know better. “You don’t know what you’ve done.”

My entire body shivers, mostly from the adrenaline and only slightly from the cold. Possibly from the gravelly sound of his voice and the threat hidden in his words blooms desire in my belly. “Where’s Cora?”

His head twitches slightly, letting me know he’s surprised by my question. Reaper backs away, his chest heaving, hands lingering, letting strands of hair slip through his fingers as he lets me go. His black eyes in the white skull cut through me, the melting face and stitching something out fo a nightmare. He takes another step back, letting his gleaming gaze drag down my body. “I’ll give you a head start, Kitten.” He lifts his arm, motioning for me to move. “On a count of three.”

I shake my head.

“One.”

“No.” My heart stutters. My palms flattening to the tree.

“Two.”

I push off the tree, eyeing him, fear locking my jaw tight.

“Three.”

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