Page 7 of The Cruelest Chaos
I roll my eyes, groaning. I should’ve just fucked that girl in Lucifer’s room. But this…this could be more fun.
So, me being me,I take off after her.
Chapter Two
She vanishesas I sprint to catch up with her, to track her before I lose her. I’m suddenly regretting not taking Lucifer up on his offer to join him and Sid on their morning runs. I work out, but I’m a lean fuck as it is, and cardio isn’t really my thing. However, smoking a fuck ton of pot is, and I can feel all the years of that habit now as my chest starts heaving.
Even still, I’m not letting this little bitch get away.
She’s like a nightmare come true within easy reach. I can feel my pulse pounding everywhere; in my head, my wrists. My fucking dick.
It occurs to me that she might fucking stab me or something when I get to her. But then it occurs to me that, well, I might not mind that.
I catch sight of her red hair again, trailing after her as she runs further from the fire and the lights. She still maintains a good distance between us, but my legs are longer than hers, and besides that, I know these woods. This is probably her first time here. I highly doubt she’s spent as much time out here as I have.
She makes the mistake of turning to glance over her shoulder at me, and I see a glimpse of her pale face. Watch as she nearly crashes into a tree. Despite my piss poor conditioning, I know I’d run fucking miles for this ass if only to pin her down and ask her what the hell is wrong with her. But that stumble of hers almost stops this chase before it even really began. The longer it goes on, the fucking hornier I’m going to get. I hope she’s ready when I tackle her ass to the ground, because I’m not going to stop.
She rights herself, dodges the tree, and I have to admit I’m kind of impressed. Still, I’ll be damned if she gets away from me. I need to get all this anger I’ve been holding ontoout.
She makes a sudden, sharp turn, attempting to throw me off, but I hear her cry out and I know she’s probably twisted her ankle. My suspicion is confirmed when I see her stop, bent over, hands on her knees, one trailing down the outside of her boot, to her ankle.
I sprint the last few feet toward her. Just as she straightens to turn toward me, I tackle her to the cold ground.
She yelps, and then she’s breathing hard underneath me, her back rising and falling against my chest. I grab the back of her hair, jerk her head up. In the dark, this far from the lights, I can’t see much, but neither can she.
I reach into my back pocket and hold the knife up to her throat.
Judging by the way she’s trembling underneath me, she’s fucking terrified.
Lucky me.
I go of her hair, flip her over underneath me so I’m straddling her, her wrists pinned above her head as I lean down close, the knife still to her throat.
And in the darkness, I see her smile as she feels my cock growing hard again, digging into her stomach.
“My ankle,” she says softly, but she’s still smiling. “It hurts—”
“You like being pinned like this?” I interrupt her, my voice hoarse. I don’t give a fuck about her ankle. She shouldn’t have run.
She bites her lip, nods her head. Fuck. I know I can’t be the only one; I can’t be the only one built to get off on the pain. But I’ve never met a girl that got this crazy, this quick.
She’s fucking smiling while I hold a knife to her throat.
I always wondered if that’s why I couldn’t love Ria. Not likethat.She’s too practical. Too…good.Smart and gorgeous and level-headed…stable.
I’m not feeling so stable right now. I haven’t been this sober in a long, long time, and I don’t really like it. It pushes me toward the edge I’m trying my damndest not to jump off of.
I hold the blade to her cheek, run it down her skin. She’s still smiling up at me and I tighten my fingers around her wrists.
“What’s your name?” I whisper against her mouth, wanting to hear it from her. Maybe subconsciously also hoping she’s not some strange relation of mine.
Fucking Sid.
She’s quiet a long moment, her breath soft against my lips. I wonder if I’ll have to make her bleed to get her to talk again. I wouldn’t mind that much. But finally, she answers me. “Ella,”she whispers. “Ella Christian.”
“Why did you run, Ella Christian?” I ask her softly, skimming the flat side of the blade down to her throat, pale even in the darkness around us.
At this, she chokes out a laugh. “Are you kidding?” There’s amusement and a hint of fear in her words. “Have youseenyourself?” She laughs again, and it sounds childish. Unsettling. “I know a devil when I see one.”
