Page 37 of Hunted By the Headless Horseman
Her heart pounds against my chest.
My beautiful Belle…I rub my knuckles along her cheek, imagining the feeling of her soft, pouty lips bowing for me, the first kiss we shall share after I drive myself into her. A hard-driven coupling first. I will fuck her first. Then, once I regain my head, which she will not see, I will worship her with my mouth, my tongue, my teeth. I will memorize every blessed inch of her flesh. I will feast as I have never feasted.
“Jack?” She wrenches me from my reverie, poking my sides. “Did I break you or something?”
No, my beloved. I was simply envisioning when I will finally look upon every inch of you tomorrow evening and the infinite number of places I will kiss through whatever forever we may spend together.
“And I might be looking forward to testing other flavors of your cock.”
By thunder! I must have committed some grand deed in a past life to have this remarkable young woman.
“We should be getting back now. But I have to um…relieve myself first. Stay right here, I’ll be back soon. Don’t look at—oh, never mind!”
I chuckle to myself. She has no qualms about undressing before me in the solitude of her bedroom, but a pit stop in the woods seems too scandalous for her.
A minute passes by. Then another. I grip my cane handle, biding my time, working to be patient and not to let my unease lead me to invade her space.
The bloodcurdling scream echoing sets every last nerve aflame.
“Ja—!” The end of her speech is muffled by something.
Following the direction of that scream, I charge for her like a rampaging monster, careless of anything or anyone that gets in my way. Whatever beast or man will rue the day they ever laid a finger on Belladonna Holloway.
I’m coming, Belle.
15
“Thaddeus knows your dirty little secret, Belladonna.”
BELLE
They come, herding me right after I pull my stockings up and my dress down.
I don’t get a cry out before strong arms grab me from behind, a hand slamming over my mouth to smother my speech.
“Don’t struggle, you little tramp. It’s pointless.”
My blood congeals. It’s been years, but I would recognize the voice anywhere.Hissecond in command. Rich masculine laughter ripples around me. I kick and thrash harder than ever, but they have my legs.
I get my hands free for two seconds—just enough time to wrench his palm down.
“Ja—” I get one shrill scream out before the hand comes down again.
A knife presses to my throat, and I freeze beneath the deadly blade, knowing he won’t care if my skin is a little carved up. They drag me deeper into the forest. Deeper in the direction of my nightmare.
“Stop your nonsense, sweetheart. Thaddeus wants a word with you.”
I’m coming, Belle.I hear him. The growl in his throat, the urgency in his voice. Jack is coming. It makes me braver, mouthier. Anything to delay the darkness from crushing me. Splintered memories, ones I haven’t thought of or felt in years, rise. I’ve suffocated them beneath a thousand and one bookshop tasks, crystal-healing, and OCD tasks. With Jack, they’ve been further than ever.
It’s been nine years. And I’m stronger than ever.
After Jeremiah drops his other hand, counting on me not to scream with the knife poised at my throat, I spit out, “Thaddeus can go to hell where he was born and be the devil’s bitch for all I care.” His grip on me tightens, but I gnash my teeth. “If he puts his filthy hands on me again, I’ll bite them off and shove them down his goddamn throat.”
The others laugh. I recognize them. When you’re a well-endowed girl raised in a patriarchal cult, you get very familiar with all the boys who wanted a damn piece of you.
Lucas is on my left. He’s scrawny but a slippery son of a bitch.Literally. His mother was a total bitch who covered for him when he assaulted his own cousin, then insisted on them marrying so she would not be “sullied”.
Malachi is on my right. He’s the strongest of the bunch. Muscles like mountains.
