“No can do. How else are you going to pay for defying me if I release you?”
“Why…would I pay for anything?”
“Try again and in a less spooked tone, because your nervousness turns me on.”
“You’re sick.”
“And you’re a broken record.” He shoves his face against the side of my throat so he’s literally breathing down my neck, his hot breaths triggering my hitched breaths. “Why are you here, Glyndon?”
“I told you, I got an invitation,” I try to speak normally, but my voice comes out lower than usual.
“Do you attend every dangerous event you get invited to?”
“I just…got curious.” There’s no way I’ll tell him about Devlin when he could be in on the conspiracy with the rest of the club about his death.
His eyes darken behind the mask, and with the neon red, they’re downright terrifying. It’s like he’s taking his predator role way too seriously.
Or maybe it’s not a role for him. Maybe it’s his true self and whatever he shows the outside world is the actual role.
His voice echoes in the silence around us like a twisted melody. “Maybe you didn’t only get curious. Maybe you wanted the danger and to see for yourself what it means to be on that cloud of adrenaline. Maybe you just wanted to be hunted like an animal and then captured and ravaged in the most barbaric way. Is that what you wanted, little rabbit?”
I frantically shake my head, refusing to come to terms with the chills that cover my body or the tightening between my legs that’s been intensifying with each of his words.
“Are you telling me that if I rip your shorts and touch your cunt, I won’t find it soaking wet like when I came through your window last night?”
I freeze.
Wait…what?
Did he just say that last night he came through my window? As in, that nightmare was real?
He puts me to my feet and some pebbles crunch beneath my shoes as I sway a little, both from the shock of the realization and the loss of his warmth.
I swear to God this bastard is playing a mind trick on me.
He has to be.
Right?
He towers over me, the sight of his mask adding more to his downright horrifying existence. “Your little body was writhing beneath me, you all but tried to ride my hand, remember?”
“That’s not true,” I whisper more to myself than to him. “I didn’t.”
“You hate it, don’t you? How much you want what I have to offer, how you ache for that feeling of letting go as you’re ravaged whole. For a moment, you want to stop being a good girl and just let whatever lurks inside you loose, isn’t that right?”
“I don’t want you.” I shake my head over and over, stepping back. “I don’t. I refuse to. I won’t.”
“Look at you being adorable.” Both darkness and amusement laces his tone. “Didn’t I say your nervousness turns me on? Let’s add your denial, too.”
My gaze automatically goes to his trousers and I nearly choke at the sight of the tent that’s bulging against the material. “Don’t, Killian.”
“Mmm. I really do love the sound of my name in your sweet little voice.”
I keep stepping back, but he matches my strides with nonchalant ones. “Would you stop if I begged you?”
“No.”
“If I scream?”