Page 20 of The Wallflower

Sound breaks through the silence, crashing footfalls and muttered curses as she rushes in the opposite direction of my stick.

Aw. She tried. It's socute.

I quickly follow and don't bother staying quiet. I want her to know I’m coming for her. She can run all night if she wants, and I'll stay right on her heels, hunting her like the prey she is.

It would be easier if my cock hadn't been rock hard since the first moment I touched her. My patience is dwindling. Only a little more, and I'll catch her again, maybe toy with her a little more, but soon enough, I’ll have to take her.

As I jog ahead, my steps are thundering booms in the mostly quiet space. That’s the thrill of The Hunt. I want her to feel me behind her, the tiny hairs on the back of her neck standing on end, her fear of being caught, making her choose her next move. Truthfully, I want her a little more terrified of me before I catch her for real. I want her sweating because she fears what will happen when I capture her, not the fear of being caught. For the next ten minutes, I dodge her steps, grasp onto her slim waist, and release her, letting her rush away, no doubt tiring herself out even more.

Each time I touch her, she shrieks, screaming and cursing at me. I even catch the sheen of tears on her cheeks when she crosses paths with a lantern.

Finally, I'm getting her where I want her. The next time I grasp her hips, she spins hard to the left, rolling out of my grip and rushing off in the other direction.

I falter over a branch and recover quickly. As I give chase, she shouts over her shoulder. "What the fuck do you want? Stop messing with me!"

I laugh and keep up with her, matching her pace now. "I'm not walking away for anything. Don't worry, you'll get tired, or I'll get tired soon enough, and then we can stop for a while."

Her entire frame shivers, and she swipes tearstained cheeks. "Why are you such an asshole?"

I don't answer but grab her around the waist. Again, she twists away, and I laugh, continuing to play with her. She swats at me every time I reach for her. We rush through some trees, and it only takes her looking away for a split second to go down hard in the dirt like she did earlier.

I slow and approach her cautiously, watching her every move. Instead of standing, she lies there, her face pressed to the cool ground, her hand coated in dirt and dust. The crisp smell of nature and the intoxicating scent of fear fill the air.

I crouch near her head. "Playing dead already, little flower? We haven't even got to the best part yet."

"Fuck off,” she sneers.

I lick my lips and study the line of her spine and how it curves into the lush globes of her ass.

For a moment, I just look at her through the darkness, watching the way her back rises and falls in ragged gasps. Once she's had a moment to breathe, I reach down and haul her body up against me. Like I anticipated, she fights tooth and nail, striking out until I spin her and pin her arms down at her sides. Her fight threatens to make me lose control, and if anything is worse than being a predator, it’s being an out-of-control predator.

"Calm the fuck down," I snap and loosen my grip on her. "Your fighting turns me the fuck on, but it also makes me wantto hurt you in ways that you aren’t ready for yet. So keep it up. Either way, I’ll end up with what I want.”

I barely register her hand pulling from my grasp or that she's slapped me until the sting of it blooms across my cheek. The muscles in my jaw tense. It’s not the first time I’ve been hit, and it won’t be the last, but it’s unexpected from her. Instantly, she tries to pull back, horror filling her delicate features.

“I’m… I’m sorry…” she mumbles while clutching her face in her hands like she can't believe she did such a thing. It’s strange how she apologizes, even when it was an act of defense. I remain silent, letting the emotions roll through her. There’s something about her, something real, something that makes me want to bottle it up.

Dropping her hands, she shakes her head in distress, and I notice a trickle of blood rolling down to her full upper lip. There’s a scrape on her cheek and the hint of a bruise already forming. I’m not surprised she’s hurt herself. I guess I’d be more shocked if she didn’t, given the terrain and the fact that she’s running in the dark. I gently swipe at the blood, and she belatedly bats at my hands.

"Stop. You've hurt yourself, little flower." She scowls, and it's so damn cute. Her glasses are askew, her cheeks burn pink, and her pretty green eyes shimmer brightly in the moonlight. I straighten them and push some of the golden hair out of her face to get a better look at her. "Let me look at you." Her legs wobble, and I place a hand against her hip to steady her. Even in the dim moonlight, I see her scraped knees and palms. "Maybe if you wouldn’t have run, then you wouldn’t have hurt yourself.”

The remark earns me another scowl. She curls her lip in disgust and tosses another insult at me. "And maybe if you weren’t a psychopath hell-bent on hurting people, I wouldn’t have had a reason to run in the first place.”

All I can do is smile. Her defiance is everything I could’ve hoped for and more. Her knees knock together, and I rub my hands up and down her arms to warm her. "Let me clean you up a little, flower."

I reach into my pocket for the small first-aid kit I always bring on nights like tonight. Most of the time, they go unused, but fortunately for my wallflower, I care enough to make sure she doesn’t end up with an infection.

I take out an alcohol wipe, and she wrinkles her nose at the smell of the antiseptic, her dark eyes watching my every move as I clean up the cut on her face. Maybe it’s instinct or something else, but she allows me to clean and bandage the wound, which makes me believe she’s not entirely repulsed by my presence. When I kneel down in front of her, she moves her legs like she wants to kick me, but I trap her knees together and swat at the back of her thighs. "Don't do something you’ll regret."

She sniffs. "That’s rich. You can do whatever you want to me, but I can't do anything to you?"

"No one said that. You cantryto do whatever you want to me. The rules are the same for you as they are for me, but let me make it very clear. It doesn’t matter what you do to me. Nothing short of fucking death is going to stop me from taking what is mine.”

Almost like she’s given up completely, she slumps to the ground. I reach down and lift her under the arms, holding her tightly against me. The way her body feels, how it molds to mine…Fuck. I’ve been with a lot of women but never felt such an intoxicating pull toward any of them. When she notices my straining erection against her thigh, she starts to fight again, but I tighten my grasp on her.

"Nope, not happening. You feel that? This little chase you've led me on has me so hard, I can't even think straight."

She lets out a tiny whimper. "I didn't do anything."

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