Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 146477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 732(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 146477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 732(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
A heavy scream rips out of me, terror pounding through my veins as I go to run, but he’s too quick. He steps into my back and braces one hand over my mouth, muting the sound of my cries as he pulls me in hard against his chest.
He’s massive. Must be at least six-foot-four. Maybe six-five. And the strength radiating from his body is like nothing I’ve ever experienced. Trying to break out of his grasp is a waste of time. He’s a fucking machine, built of pure muscle and malice.
Tears roll down my cheek as he holds me still, and his other hand reaches for the towel as I feel his laser-sharp stare on me through my full-length mirror. My chest heaves, panic infecting me as I watch him closely.
He’s wearing all black: tactical pants, boots, a shirt that accentuates his muscular build. His shoulders and chest are broad, and I can only wonder what’s hidden beneath that terrifying mask. It’s somewhat of a gothic skull, but its jaw is wide open with sharp, talon-like fangs.
I’ve never seen anything like it.
The man leans in even closer, his lips just a breath from my ear as I try to focus on anything but the intoxicating scent coming off him. He smells like my darkest desires, and it fucks with my head. I shouldn’t want to feel how his hands feel on my body. Shouldn’t want him to have his wicked way with me, and yet, despite my overwhelming fear, if that’s what he wanted, I’d give it to him in a heartbeat.
“We’re going to play a game, kitten.”
His voice is like velvet, addictive and mesmerizing, every syllable sending shivers sailing across my skin. He releases the knot in my towel, letting it fall to the ground until I’m standing naked in his arms. While I know I should run, or scream, or put up a fight, I can’t help but want to please him—even if I have no idea what his endgame is.
His big, calloused hand finds my waist and trails over my skin. “If you scream. You fail. If you run. You die. But kitten, you will hide, and I will find you.”
I swallow over the lump in my throat, keeping my eyes on him through my mirror, watching his hand skim up to my tits, firmly cupping them and squeezing tight before trailing down past my ribs and over my hip. What does he want from me? Just to play some twisted game of hide and seek? I don’t fucking know.
I go to speak, and he eases his hold over my mouth, dropping the hand to my body, satisfied that I’m not about to scream.
“What happens after you find me?”
His eyes seem to penetrate right through to my soul through the mirror. A rumbling groan vibrates through his chest. “You become mine.”
Holy fuck.
You become mine. What does that even mean? Will I become his in a sexual sense, or does he mean he’ll claim my whole entire existence?
My chest heaves frantically, knowing exactly where his hand is aiming, yet I don’t try to stop him. I don’t cry out. I don’t scream. I don’t even try to push him away. Instead, I wait on bated breath, knowing just how dangerous this man can be.
Is he really going to kill me like he did the last victim? Or will he let me off the hook if I can play his game?
His fingers dip low between my thighs, and as they skim over my clit, my hips jolt with involuntary excitement. He rolls them over the sensitive bud again as if learning how responsive my body can be. I suck in a breath, and as his fingers continue exploring, they dip lower to my entrance.
My legs shake with nervousness, and as the heel of his palm rubs against my clit, he slowly drags his fingers through my wetness. “That’s a good kitten,” he rumbles, his breath brushing my shoulder. “Always ready.”
Sweet baby Jesus.
My pussy clenches, and then finally he pushes his fingers deep inside of me, making my knees weaken beneath me. His other arm locks around my waist, keeping me upright, the same way Knight had to the other night, and I can’t help but wonder if this terrifying man behind me is the same one who was buried deep inside of me on his kitchen counter.
Physically, they match. Height. Build. Everything is ticking boxes.
Knight is covered in tattoos though, and this guy is covered in clothes, making it hard to tell, but that very thought has me relaxing just a little. I don’t think it’s Knight. I don’t think he would go to the lengths of stalking me at work and murdering a man in cold blood just to send me a message, but if it were him, I don’t think he’d hurt me. I don’t know if he’d have it in him.