Page 43 of Stream & Scream
She slips on moss, catching herself against a boulder and whipping her head around—eyes wide, lips parted, her skin streaked with sweat and forest grime.
“Fuck,” she gasps, voice pained.
And there it is.
That crack. That tiny fracture in her defiance.
She knows she’s not getting away tonight.
I step forward, stalking toward her slowly. I want her to see me coming. I want her to feel it in her bones when I make herscream.
“You run like you want to be caught,” I say, voice throaty, the modulator in my mask warping it into something inhuman. “Tell me, Olivia. Is this foreplay to you?”
She swallows hard, chin lifting. Still fighting. Still spitting sparks even with her back to the rocks.
“Go fuck yourself.”
I grin beneath my helmet. “Maybe later. Right now? I think I’d rather fuck you.”
She doesn’t wait for me to say more before she takes off again, putting as much distance between us as her trembling legs can bear.
Good girl.
She dives into the left clearing, feet barely catching ground. She doesn’t know I rerouted every feed to follow this chase. Doesn’t know she’s the only channel that matters tonight.
My boots tear through the brush behind her. I let her get a head start—ten seconds. Long enough for her to believe she has a shot. Long enough for me to get hard all over again from the sound of her frantic breathing.
Leaves crunch beneath my feet as they pound against the forest floor. This time I’m not quiet. I want her heart to pound harder at the sound of each of my steps.
I’m there before she can turn back to see me.
I lunge.
She yelps as I grab her arm and spin her, her momentum slamming her back into a moss-covered boulder. Her breath ripsout in a grunt, chest heaving as she tries to recover. I press in before she can, my hand sliding up to clamp around her throat, thumb pressing just enough to make her swallow. My other hand fists into her hair, then smooths it down in a slow, deliberate pat like I’m fixing her up for the cameras.
“Shhh,” I murmur, voice buzzing against her ear, low and cruel. “Scream if you want, baby. No one’s coming.”
She kicks, body jerking, but I wedge a boot between her legs and pin her thigh up against the rock, locking her in place. Her pulse pounds hard under my palm. Her eyes—God, her fucking eyes, are wide, wet, furious, terrified. Perfect.
“Did you think you were special?” I whisper. “Think the rules don’t apply to you?”
Her lips tremble against my glove.
“I could’ve killed you a hundred times over. Slit your throat while you slept. Shot you in the back of the head when you were tying your laces. But I didn’t. Do you know why?”
She glares, almost like she’s daring me to continue. There’s a challenge in her eyes.
“Because I want you like this,” I growl. “Out of breath. Half-wild, and all fucking mine.”
I immediately grab her jaw, squeezing until her lips part.
“Say it.”
“Go to hell,” she snarls.
I chuckle. “Already been there, sweetheart.”
My hand drops between her thighs, and she writhes beneath my touch.
