Page 63 of The Queen
In moments like these, the world outside our circle fades away—it’s just me and my men.
“Let’s get out of here,” Oliver suggests casually.
“I’ve got a better idea,” I murmur and slip out of Raph’s hold, walking towards the quad, fully expecting them to catch up.
And they do.
29
ELIZA
When the fiveof us are assembled on the other side of the quad, on the far side, away from the Great Hall, I kick off my high heels, losing a few inches around these tall men built to fight, to kill.
“Tonight, we’re going to play a little game. I want you to chase me down,” I say, looking at each of them. “You hunt me, grab me, tie me up and force yourselves on me. You have my consent to rape me.” The words hang heavy in the air, a dark promise that we all feel. It’s a dangerous game we’re playing, but with these men, my trusted lovers, I want it, I need it. Hearing James’s sharp intake of breath and Oliver’s surprisingly heated look, I see the thrill ignite in the twins’ eyes, the way their bodies tense up, ready for the chase. They need this as much as I do.
“Are you sure about this, Eliza?” James asks, his voice low. There is a hint of concern there, but it is overridden by the desire I see burning in his gaze.
“I’m sure.” He needs to hear it, and I’m happy to give it. They have my consent, and now I want them to act.
The guys exchange glances. Their silent communication speaks volumes as they prepare to dive into the pitch black withme. Their eyes lock onto mine, intense, uncompromising, as I take a step back, signalling the beginning of our twisted game.
James moves forward, dropping his suit jacket on my shoes and rolling up the sleeves of his white shirt meticulously. “You get a thirty second head start. Run.”
His words send a spike of fear into my blood, and without another word, I turn and bolt away from them, ready to lead them on a wild chase under the moonlit sky.
Gathering up my dress, I leave the guys behind, power in every step as I head to the campus edge, which borders a small forest area that will be perfect for our game. The pulse of excitement slams through me, raw and wild. The cold grass beneath my bare feet sends a jolt through me, but it’s nothing compared to the rush in my veins.
Ahead of me, the night stretches out like a promise, dark and full of secrets.
“Spread out and box her in,” I hear James call out behind me, his voice carrying in the still of the cold night.
It peaks my nipples, and I bite my lip, running faster.
A quick glance over my shoulder confirms it. James, Oliver, Tarquin, and Raphael move with purpose, their eyes glued to me. They’re predators in designer suits, their hunger barely contained. Each step they take is measured and calculated, the opposite of my haste.
“Ready or not,” I whisper to the night, an invitation hanging between us, unspoken but understood. Each breath feels like fire, and I push myself faster, determined to stretch this moment, to make them feel every second of the hunt.
Entering the woods, the trees close in around me, dark and whispering secrets. The chilly air caresses my skin. Moonlight dips through the leaves, painting ghostly patterns on the forest floor. I’m alive in ways that only darkness and danger can awaken.
Crossing into the shadows, the thrill of the unknown ahead propels me forward. The men won’t give their positions away at all. They will take me completely by surprise, and that’s what I want. I want to feel the fear. I want them to hunt, to conquer; I need them to fulfil the fantasy that has burned in me since James and I explored his dark fantasy.
The scent of earth and wildness fills my lungs as I push deeper into the woods, the world narrowing to this exhilarating game of chase.
The forest becomes denser, the path more uneven, but I don’t slow down. Branches snag at my hair, twigs snap underfoot—this is no place for hesitation. I don’t want them to find me waiting for them. No, I want them to grab me as I’m running and force me into submission.
As I dart between trees, adrenaline surges like lightning through my blood. This is the edge I live for, where control teeters and falls away, leaving only raw, untamed desire. With each step, my body vibrates with the need to be captured, claimed, overwhelmed by the sheer force of their strength.
My bare feet are swift on the cold, damp earth, every muscle in my body coiled and ready. The guys are nowhere to be seen or heard.
The forest is alive with the sounds of the night. I push harder, dodging low-hanging branches, my hair billowing out behind me like a flag of defiance.
My heart doesn’t just race—it thunders as I navigate a narrow ridge, the earth loose beneath my feet. Leaves crunch under my bare feet as I dart through the dense foliage, branches grasping at my hair like the fingers of ghosts, tearing at my skin until I bleed. The thrill shoots through me, a live wire directly connected to my racing pulse.
My foot catches on a root, and I stumble, cursing under my breath. For a fleeting moment, it feels like I’ve made this too easy—but no, I regain my balance and push on. The thought of their hands on me, claiming me after this chase, adds fuel to my flight.
I’m panting now, each breath a swirl of fright and arousal as I push deeper into the embrace of the woods—their playground as much as mine.
The ground rises sharply beneath me, an incline that demands strength from already burning thighs. I climb it recklessly, feeling more alive with each step that brings me closer to the inevitable. My lungs struggle for air, but there’s no surrender in me, not now, not ever—especially when it comes to them and the pleasure I know they’ll tear from me.
