Page 46 of Wicked Pursuit

I press on his chest, and he allows me to walk him backward to an open chair behind him. Casimir sinks smoothly, and I follow, straddling him. His cock is hard against my bare pussy, and I can’t help rolling my hips a little as I lean down to speak directly in his ear. “I’m going to fuck so many people tonight. You’re going to have a lot of reclaiming to do,baby. Though you can’t give away what was never yours.”

“You were mine from the moment I saw you, Ruby.” He grabs my ass and grinds me against him. I’m so wet from sucking Reaper’s cock in front of him. So fucking wet and aching and... He rubs me up and down the length of his cock, the seam of his pants hittingright there.

Now’s the time to do something, to put him in his place, but the haze of need muddies my thoughts. “No,” I whisper.

“Yes.” He keeps me moving at that pace, his eyes hard and hot. “No one makes you come as hard as I do. No one fucks you like I do.” Casimir leans in, his breath ghosting against the shell of my ear as he keeps winding me tighter and tighter. “And no one knows what a vicious little monster you are the way I do. I’ve spent two years knowing you. You’re selfish and petty, smart and savvy. Downright fuckingwicked, baby. If you ever get out of your own way, you’re going to be one hell of a leader for that fucking territory.”

“Casimir.” I don’t know if I’m telling him to stop or to keep going. I can’tthink. “Please.”

“Take what you need, baby.”

I frantically reach between us to get his pants undone, even as I tell myself not to give him the satisfaction. I just get my fist wrapped around his length when Reaper’s voice cuts through the room.

“Time to play, friends. The game tonight is a hunt, but we’re doing things my way.” A chorus of laughs slams me back into myself.

What am Idoing? I had every intention of making Casimir pay for everything he’s done, but the first chance I get, I’m about to be bouncing on his cock again. I shove off him and yank my robe shut. I’m not even sure when it came undone.

For his part, he smirks and does his pants back up. The only indication that he’s as affected as me is his hard cock pressing against the fabric of his pants... against the wet spot of my desire.

Meanwhile, Reaper is still speaking, projecting to every corner of the room without him raising his voice. “Participation is not required, of course, but those who want to play will choose to be predator... or prey. Prey flees. Predators pursue. And if a predator catches their prey, they can have their filthy way with them. For this game, we’ll follow the tried-and-true safe words. ‘Red’ means stop. ‘Yellow’ is a pause. Understood?”

Again, people murmur in assent. He has us all captivated. The man truly does know how to work a crowd.

He grins. “And what’s a game without a prize? Whichever predator brings me the best offering will win a favor of their choosing.”

“What do you mean by ‘best,’ Reaper?” someone calls from the back of the room.

His grin widens. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.” He spreads his arms. “Prey will get a five-minute head start. If you want to play foxes to our hounds, come to me now.”

Participation may not be required, but if I stay here, I’m going to end up fucking Casimir again and likely not receive any answers.

Besides, when am I going to get another chance to play a game like this? Fleeing strangers who will hold me down and fuck me if they catch me? Playing kinky games without having to worry about seeing a family member participating?

I’m not missing this for anything.

14

The rules of the game are simple enough: Stay on the grounds. The participating prey have a five-minute head start, and then the predators will come hunting. Reaper will stay here with those who aren’t interested in this flavor of game.

Us prey gather near him at the arched doorway. The ones in heels are taking off their shoes, but I have no shoes to speak of. Or clothes, for that matter. The collar hardly counts, and the robe will be easy enough to get past when I’m caught.

Because it is a “when,” not an “if.” Being caught is the whole goal.

Speaking of . . .

I turn to find Casimir lurking a few feet away. I wish he’d grabbed a shirt before leaving the room; his shirtless chest is highly distracting. I try to drape myself in bravado. “Better hope you find me first.”

“No.”

I jolt. “Excuse me?”

“You want to play games, baby? Play.” His expression gives nothing away. He’s completely drawn into himself, and while there’s a part of me that hates his familiar face on what amounts to a stranger... the rest of me is quivering in anticipation.

He can talk all the shit he wants. He’s playing. In fact... the longer I look at him, the more I start to see hints of the real him behind the locked exterior.

Because Idoknow him, at least in part. I’ve lived with this man for over a year, and he might have been playing a role the entire time, but there was too much intimacy that couldn’t be faked. Not entirely. Not when we were living in each other’s pockets.

I cross the short distance to Casimir. “Now who’s lying?”

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