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But she turned back around quickly and kept walking, rolling with it.

My breath filled the inside of the mask, and I could feel a light layer of sweat breaking out over my forehead.

The backs of her thighs, the few inches I could see, were making my hands ball into fists. I wanted to slide my fingers up the back of her skirt and touch skin that I knew felt like butter.

The top of her hair glowed in the soft light from the moon, and every time her nervous glances over her shoulder hit me, it made my heart beat faster.

I’m going to make you scream.

She stepped slowly into the cathedral through the door, now hanging on its hinges, and stopped, looking around.

But we weren’t sightseeing. I planted my hand on her back and shoved her forward.

“Mich—” she gasped out, losing her voice. She jerked her head around, shaking it as she breathed hard. “I don’t think we should—”

But I immediately reached out and grabbed her neck, cutting her off and shoving her backward again.

“Michael!”

Her breaths rushed in and out loud and fast, and she hurriedly backed away from me, her eyes wide with fright. She swallowed, holding my stare, and I could tell she was definitely fucking scared now.

Then, I narrowed my eyes, seeing her hand absently drop to the inside if her thigh.

Jesus. She was so fucking turned on, she was about to rub one out right here. She quickly pulled her hand away, probably realizing the impulse she’d had.

I jerked my head toward the entrance to the catacombs, remaining silent. She hesitated, shifting her eyes side to side, but turned anyway and started walking.

She didn’t trust me. But she wanted to.

We reached the entrance, cool air drifting up and seeping through my jeans and hoodie.

She paused. “There’s no…” she twisted her head to the side, talking to me. “There’s no light.”

I stood behind her, looking down at the top her head and waiting. I didn’t care if there was any light.

She seemed to realize that when I didn’t say anything. Taking a deep breath, she stepped down, slowly finding the next stair as she grazed her hand along the wall to our right, using it to guide and steady her.

With every step she took, my cock grew harder.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she turned her head again, looking to me with a question in her eyes. It was nearly pitch black down here, some moonlight seeping in from cracks in the ceiling.

The chilled silence of the tunnels to the left and right closed

in on us like walls, and I wondered if there was anyone else down here.

Walking into her, I forced her backward into the vault ahead of me. The same room I’d taken her to three years ago.

Her footsteps picked up, and she entered the chamber ahead of me, her fair hair the only thing I could make out in the darkness.

“Michael?” she called. “Where are you?”

Taking out a lighter, I pushed the button and lit the small candle on the wall sconce by the doorway.

The soft glow barely filled the room, but it was enough to see her.

I stalked toward her, noticing the mattress that was here last time now gone and replaced with a small wooden table.

“Are there people down here?” she breathed out. “I hear something.”


Tags: Penelope Douglas Devil's Night Romance