Page 44 of Scary In Love
Mason
There’snoneofthegrandeur of the house in these long corridors with their bare wooden floors. They’re musty and dark until the strobe lights I set up with an auto-sensor start flashing again.
The chainsaw screeches and roars, but it’s just a sound box attached to a rusty old one I found in an outbuilding. Jenna’s brain might know she’s not in any real danger, but her nervous system doesn’t. It’s shot to hell after coming on my face, and we’re just getting started.
She tries every door she passes, but she doesn’t know I’ve only left the one at the end unlocked. It leads to a staircase that will take her down two storeys, deep into the belly of the house, and the scene I’m most looking forward to. Or maybe it’s the one after that.
Who am I kidding? I’ve been looking forward to all of them far more than she’ll ever know.
I finally understand the meaning of a blood-curdling scream when the lights flash and she realises I’m right behind her. Her fear triggers mine, and I turn the chainsaw off, calling after her as her feet pound against the floorboards.
“Safeword, Jenna?”
“Green, motherfucker,” she yells back at me, her middle finger held up over her shoulder.
Those two words have my basest primal instincts kicking up again. I want to chase her and tackle her to the ground and fuck her until I need to replace the floorboards.
God, I’m so fucking into this woman.
She nearly falls on her ass when the final door flies open. Scrambling to recover, she races down the stairs, and I hang back, knowing she’ll need a second to get used to her surroundings. The bottom floor is underground, with wide corridors and arched rooms on both sides. They’re old wine and beer cellars, cold stores for meats and fresh food from the days before refrigerators existed.
Untouched for years, they’re mostly full of junk and creepy as fuck. The perfect setting for my damsel in distress. Jenna plays her role to perfection, and I can’t wait to see how she handles it.
I stop the chainsaw noises, make my footsteps sound heavy on the stairs, then jump out at the bottom with the chainsaw high above my head.
“BOO!”
My voice booms against the old ceiling. Jenna screams again, and I stalk towards her in the strobing light. I’m in no hurry. My pretty prey is trapped, and she knows it.
She whimpers and slides down the wall, cowering in the corner.
Using the remote I have hidden in my pocket, I turn off the lights, plunging us into darkness. I focus in on her shaky, heavy breathing, and force mine to stay quiet. The sound is so fucking hot.
Fear thrives in the dark, and the air is thick with it. It’s making me rock fucking hard. I don’t want anything to be predictable, so I stand perfectly still, letting the tension build as she waits for my next move.
“Fuck you, Mason,” she spits out eventually. It’s so unexpected it makes me laugh.
“In a good way?”
“The best,” she pants, and I hear her swallow hard. “What do you want from me?”
I want everything, forever, but I don’t think that’s what she’s asking.
From another pocket, I fish out a miniature flashlight and shine it underneath my chin the way kids do when they tell ghost stories.
“You know the rules, Jenna. You can run, but you can’t hide.” I cackle loudly, loving how much fun it is to play these amped-up characters with unhinged voices.
She shields her eyes when I turn it on her and use the beam to scan slowly down her body. Flushed cheeks, heaving tits, shredded tights.
After cutting them open and ripping them with my hands, they’re barely hanging on, but that’s exactly what I wanted. I nudge her knee with my boot, and she spreads her legs wide. Her skirt rides up enough to reveal more of her, glistening wet.
Shining lights up her skirt is fast becoming my new kink. I wonder if there’s a name for it.
“Would you look at that? What a filthy fucking mess you are.”
Jenna slips one hand between her legs, moaning at the contact. My moans follow when she slips two inside herself and drags them out slowly. I love how much she’s getting off on this, and I’m dying to see her make herself come, but it’s not in the plan for this scene.
“Hey,” I yell, stamping my foot so loudly it echoes along the corridor. She squeaks and snaps her knees shut. “You don’t get to touch what’s mine. Get up, slut.”
