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I’m running.
I recognize the woods enclosing Mom’s property, the same ones I’ve run through most of my life. But no matter how hard I push, how desperately I pump my legs, he’s there. A shadowy silhouette visible only by his glowing red eyes tracking my every futile attempt.
My white dress is a beacon in the dark, a startled rabbit bounding over roots and rocks, frantic to escape the wolf dogging my steps.
He’s so close. Always right there when I turn. Always watching, waiting for me to fall so he can pounce.
But I’m not scared.
I am. My heart is racing and I’m coursing with the panicked adrenaline of a small creature trying to flee, but I’m excited. I want the chase. I want him to hunt me. Catch me. I want that mouth on me again.
Propelled by a new sense of urgency, I dive around a knotted tree and skip down the incline I know takes me to the river further ahead.
Rhys and I used to play there as kids. I think my love of being chased stems from those long summers with him hot on my heels, tackling me to the damp earth when he caught me.
But this isn’t kid-Rhys stalking me now. It’s the tall, broad stranger from Halloween who terrorized me for his amusement. The brute who finally had enough of my runningand grabbed me by the hair, yanking me back into the steel cage of his arms.
My core pangs at the memory. It floods with the desire to feel that again. To have his long fingers cup my sex without warning while holding my head jerked back to his shoulder to growl into my ear, “Enough. Give.”
It’s him stalking me now, but under that mask is Rhys. It shouldn’t be. I know that, but it’s my dream and I love Rhys’s face. I love the hard contours and chiseled lines. I love his full mouth and deep, dark eyes that make my heart trip. I want so badly for my masked stranger to be Rhys that it only makes sense that this is the only way I can have him.
In my dreams. Only where no one else can ever know how sick and twisted I am.
Soggy leaves and wet earth squish between my toes and darken the hem of my skirt but I don’t stop until he stops me. Until he steps out from behind a tree and catches my throat with gloved fingers and slams me into a tree.
The sharp bark slices into my arms and back. Bits of it rain down the back of my dress. Clings to my hair, but I am oblivious to everything, except the haunting eyes leering back from beneath dark voids on a plastic face.
“Please,” I beg.
The fingers tighten, cutting. The other hand lifts to my face and light slices up the curved blade in his fist. The sight of it makes my heart skip in my chest. I’m barely breathing as he brings it to the strap on my right shoulder. The bit of fabric snaps easily with the jerk of his wrist. The ends fall down my chest, baring my breast.
My captor hesitates a second before lightly grazing my nipple with the flat edge of the knife. The cold touch of steel on my hot flesh sends fire rippling across my skin. I gasp when he flicks the bundle with the dull edge.
He brings the knife to the other strap and slices it. My dress slithers down my body, baring me entirely to his torment. To the humming knife butt he runs down the center of my body starting from between my breasts to the apex of my thighs.
He grinds the vibrating metal into my clit. He rocks his wrist, sawing back and forth in steady pumps and I’m chasing the friction with my hips, meeting his motion while he tightens his hold on my throat.
I’m so close. So close. I don’t want him to stop.
I come awake disoriented.
The world is still dark but tinted with a faint blue at the edges. I’m face down across the mattress, my cheek pressed into the cool sheets, but I can’t move. My arms are pulled taut by satin tethers fastened under the mattress and there’s a relentless humming between my lips. Pressed into my clit.
“What—?”
The vibrator glides and rubs and my thoughts scatter as fire races through my core.
I grunt into the mattress. My hips jerk up to give him more access. My knees widen as I arch my back.
He takes that as an invitation to get behind me. His cock presses against my opening.
“Please,” I pant, needing him to fill me, stretch my walls when I cum. “I need your cock.”
He obliges with a deliberate slowness that makes my thighs tremble. My core clenches hungrily with every inch he allows me and I’m begging shamelessly for all of him.
The vibration increases with the flick of his finger and the piercing buzz zaps through my body with a vengeance I’m powerless to resist when my orgasm rips through me and I greedily impale myself on him again and again. Taking my own pleasure while he holds the toy against me.
