Page 3 of Deadly Obsession
Daring to glance over a shoulder, I allowed a faint wave of relief to wash over me. He was gone.I’d lost him!
I came to an abrupt stop, resting one hand on my heart and the other on my knee as I doubled over, attempting tocalm my ragged breathing. Then I hauled myself upright and turned. Stepping without looking before I crashed right into that mountain of a nightmare. All muscle and slitted, menacing eyes.
“Tag, you’re mine,” he said with a low growl that quickly turned into a dark, rumbling laugh.
With my heart lodged in my throat, I spun on my heel as quickly as I could to put distance between us. But within a few short strides, I heard a faint whistle from behind me. A split second later, I caught the glint of something flying over my head before sinking itself into the tree directly in front of me with a loud crack.
A fucking axe! Great, not only was I being chased by a horrifying masked man, he was a bloody axe murderer too!
My moment’s hesitation cost me any ground I had gained, the muffled breathing of the masked man growing closer and closer as I turned to accept my fate. I looked up into his eyes, tears running down my face, but I couldn’t make a sound. His gloved hand reached up and closed around my throat, his heavy steps forcing me backwards till I was pressed against the tree.
My gut was telling me to fight back, to claw at his face, but that was impossible with his mask on. Daring a moment to look him up and down, I confirmed what I already knew. There wasn’t an inch of exposed skin, and while I considered myself a capable woman, I was not overpowering this man—this monster.
With one hand still clenching my throat, he pulled something from his belt. “Wrists out in front,” he growled, leaving no room for hesitation.
I obeyed, slowly holding out my trembling hands towards him. Afraid if I reached out too far, I might be figuratively burned by the hellfire staring back at me. Before I knew it, rope was being wrapped around my wrists, my entire body flinching at the feel of it pressing into my skin. A small gaspescaped my lips, his right hand never leaving my throat as he gripped the makeshift cuffs by the center and raised my hands up over my head.
My shoulders strained as he continued to extend my arms just past my reach, so that I had to lift myself onto my toes to accommodate how high he demanded my body go. Daring to look up where he gripped the rope, I watched as he hooked the center of it onto the top of the axe head protruding from the tree at the perfect angle.
There was no hope of me getting free.
“That’s my good girl,” he said, patting my cheek with his now-free hand, then took a step back, his eyes scanning over me like I was a meal.
At those words of praise, my body betrayed my good senses. I should have been terrified, screaming, fighting, but this was like my darkest fantasy. Right out of my book.
Fuck, this monster knew it… And was I hallucinating or did his voice sound familiar?
Somehow he’d put my bookmark on the exact page where Blakley had dreamed about something very similar.
I looked up into the eyes of my masked predator and saw emerald irises burning into mine. Suddenly, despite his hand not being around my throat anymore, I could breathe even less. The only sound I could register was his deep, heavy, long pants. Like a lustful monster restraining itself.
“Looks like I’ve caught myself a harpy,” he said in a low, gravelly but honey-sweet voice.
“James...” The name escaped from my lips as recognition dawned on me.
My chest grew tight as I awaited confirmation of my suspicion. None came but only one person had ever called me that. My core heated as memories of past conversations flooded my mind. Late night exchanges of words and photos as we teased and pleased each other.
Stepping back into me, my masked captor drew anothersmall axe from a holster hanging from his belt and turned it slowly, its edge catching the moonlight so that it seemed to sparkle. His free hand reached out and gripped the bottom of my blouse as he tugged it towards him, my eyes fixating on the tip of the blade dipping closer to my throat.
My shoulders were burning, my body instinctively leaning away from the axe, despite the bark of the tree already stabbing through my blouse. I watched in silent horror—and excitement—as he gently placed the tip of the blade to the collar seam of my blouse and slowly glided it down the center, parting my pajama top like butter. The cold air intensified over my bare chest, causing my nipples to harden to stone.
With my chest exposed to him, he tilted his head side to side, taking in my breasts as if he were judging them like some piece of art in an exhibit. He raised the axe in front of my face and my eyes caught on the tip, pink fibers from my blouse hanging from a chip in its edge. My entire body tensed in anticipation of what I was certain was coming next.
Then I felt the gloved fingers of his free hand caressing the side of my face again, slowly moving down my neck and over my breasts while my gaze remained locked on the blade and those fibers. He took his time brushing each of my peaked nipples with his knuckles. The sensation sending a warm rush through my entire body.
My tunnel vision on the axe blade broke off as he flipped it in his hand so that the head was against his forearm, the blade towards me before it disappeared as he lowered the handle between us. Until all I could see was a pair of unblinking, predator-like green eyes glaring at me through the narrow slits of his mask. The axe brushed against my leg, and both his thumbs hooked on to the waistline of my pajama bottoms as he forced them down past my hips till they fell freely to the forest floor.
“No panties? Hmmmm,” he seemed to growl as his empty hand made its slow and exploratory journey back up my body,his gloved fingertips leaving a trail of heat I couldn’t explain. I shuddered when something smooth and hard glided over my pussy. “And already dripping wet.” That gravelly voice came out low, almost praise-like.
At that, I looked down and realized I was grinding against the handle of his axe!Oh my God, Sera, you are seriously fucked in the head.ButI couldn’t stop myself. It felt too good, and he knew it.
He leaned in close and I heard him take in a deep inhale. “I love vanilla,” he said under his breath, clearly picking up the scent of my favorite shampoo.
He quickened the pace, pressing the belly of the handle harder, enough to barely hurt as he slid it up and down while I continued to grind against it like an animal in heat.
Just when I was about to orgasm, though, the bastard stopped. And with his free hand reaching up and closing around my throat, he said, “No, baby girl,I’mgoing to make you come. Just me. If you move those sinful hips of yours one inch, I’ll stop. Understand?”
I nodded my head, wishing he would keep going already.
