Page 32 of Hunting Her
My bare feet pound the dirt as I race toward the cornfield. The tall stalks and muddy paths are my only chance—and it’s not much of one. Damek can fly at a speed a plane would be jealous of, and he has far more control than the unwieldy metal tubes.
This is my last chance, and I’m not sure if I have any hope.
I’m also not sure if I want any.
What happens if I win tonight? Where do I go from here? There’s nothing appealing about my old life, but how am I going to establish something new while starting from nothing?
I don’t even have any clothes on my back, like most people would. It’ll only be me and the memories of being hunted and worshipped in a way I’ll never experience again.
Ahead of me, a scarecrow with a jack-o-lantern head watches from a fork in the path. I choose a direction at random, swinging that way.
My breath whooshes from me when an arm wraps around my waist, pulling me to an abrupt stop. On instinct I kick back and try to shove the arm down to get away, but it’s no use. I’m trapped against a hard body, feeling the thick length of his cock against the small of my back.
“Damek—” I say his name as I turn my head to look at him, not sure what I’m going to beg for. Mercy? Freedom? His cock?
The sight of him stops me from saying anything.
The scarecrow I saw… wasn’t a scarecrow at all. It’s Damek with a jack-o-lantern covering his face, wearing different clothes than he was the last time I saw him.
I know it’s him because of his skin tone and markings peeking from beneath the pushed-up sleeves of his flannel. It’s a miracle I didn’t notice the horns poking out of the pumpkin head as I rushed toward it or the wings tucked behind him.
My heart races as he runs his hands up my torso to cup my breasts. He tweaks my nipples, hardened from the cold, and draws a moan from me.
“W-what are you doing?” I ask.
Am I talking about the pumpkin head, or the way he touches me? Again, I don’t know.
His chuckle echoes in the hollow pumpkin. “Isn’t this in the spirit of your All Hallow’s Eve? Dressing up and chasing beautiful women through fields of corn?”
“I guess, but?—”
He pinches my nipples once more and pushes me away. I stumble through the mud, catching myself before I fall.
“Then run, love. But this time, know that I’m hunting you, and know what happens when I catch you.”
This game isn’t as frustrating anymore. Now it’s exhilarating, like a shot of adrenaline to my bloodstream. As I take off down the path, I don’t resent the fact that I’m guaranteed to be caught before dawn breaks.
I look forward to it.
I want him to push me into the mud and take my virginity, whispering dirty nothings in my ear as he does. I want to shatter around his cock while he tells me that I’m to be his queen.
What a difference a few hours makes.
But I’m not going to make it easy for the demon king, either. I’ll fight with everything I have against my inevitable loss. That part is just in my nature.
Holding my arm across my chest to stop my breasts from protesting the lack of support, my vision tunnels on the path ahead. There’s no winning if I just run, but all I have left is to run or fight.
Footsteps thump behind me, and my lungs burn from the effort of keeping ahead of him. He doesn’t even have to use his wings, and he catches me by the hips before I can make it out of the stalks.
This time he doesn’t keep me upright. He throws me down to the ground, my knees landing in a muddy puddle and splashing me with dirt. I try to scramble up, but he places a booted foot on the small of my back.
“There’s no escaping, Nova. You’re my queen.”
The weight of him keeps me down on my hands and knees, unable to get him off and unwilling to give in just yet. He barely chased me, and there are still minutes before dawn.
I want him to sweat before he wins.
Damek won’t have me until the final possible second.
