Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
Eve
Three minutes amounts to zero head start—especially in dim lighting in a house I’m not overly familiar with—but I do know one place I can hide. The small hidden closet in the dining room.
Seconds later, I’m standing in the dark, heart thudding heavily against my chest, blood rushing to my head, but I do my best to swallow back the panic that rises in my throat.
This house is huge, and there are probably a million little hiding spots like this. What happens if they never find me? Do I win? Do I get a reprieve?
I’m just beginning to breathe again when a creaking floorboard snags my attention. Heavy footsteps enter the room, and my heart rate spikes. There’s something methodical about this person’s footsteps. They’re slow, measured. This guy isn’t checking the room quickly, then leaving. He’s being more thorough.
Shit. Does he know about the hidden closet?
With my ear pressed against the door, I strain to make out which direction the footsteps are heading, when suddenly they stop.
Swallowing, I squeeze my eyes shut and wait.
Please leave. Please leave. Please leave.
The silence stretches out painfully thin, and I wonder if the person left without me hearing him. I cling to that dumb hope for a second before the floorboard groans again, confirming he’s still out there. But he hasn’t pulled the door open. If he knew the hidden closet was here, then he would have exposed me already, right?
Easing away from the door, I wedge myself into the corner, just in case he can see my shadow under the door or something. I flex my hands, palms sweaty, and try to focus on my breathing.
Jesus.
I can hear him take two steps closer, three. Four.
Oh, my God.
It feels like all the air has been sucked out of my lungs. I can’t catch my breath. I’m like a trapped animal, itching to get free, but with nowhere to run.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are…” the guy whispers tauntingly. He’s close. Right outside the door.
One heartbeat, two, and the hidden door is slowly pulled open, creaking hinges punctuating my panicked breaths. I plaster myself against the wall, like that’s going to do any good. But it’s instinct. I’m running on pure lizard brain energy right now.
Dim candlelight floods the tiny closet, silhouetting the masked man. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, but they all are, so those things tell me nothing about who he is. Stepping inside the tiny closet, he closes the door behind him, snuffing out every last flicker of light. And hope.
Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit.
His large body fills the entire space and sucks up all the air like a sponge. The silence is so fucking loud, it creates a sharp ringing in my ears. What do I do? Who is this guy?
Finally, he breaks the silence.
“Found you,” he whispers.
My mind scrambles to find a way out of this. Maybe I can rush past him and escape? But his large body is blocking the door, and anyway, outside this closet are another three or four dozen guys, all hunting for me, too.
“Please,” I manage to choke out.
He chuckles, the sound a chest-deep rumble. “That’s right, beg. Plead with me. It won’t do you any good, but I like it.”
There’s a distinct thread of mocking delight in his tone that terrifies me. Whoever this sick fuck is, he’s getting off on the fact that I’m afraid. That’s a common theme around here. I shift against the wall, and he takes a step forward.
“You don’t have to do this,” I say, grasping for anything that might get through to him. “I’m sure you can have any girl you want…”
From what I’ve seen, most of the guys in the Burning Crown are tall, muscular, and attractive. So, yeah, the odds are, this guy doesn’t need to hunt a girl down like an animal to get his dick wet.
“You’re right.” He could easily reach out and touch me, but he doesn’t for some reason. “I can have any girl I want, and right now, I want you. ”
Of course, he would say that. I stepped right into that one.
It’s pitch black in here, but I can feel him shift closer, the warmth of his body seeping into my skin. I stiffen as he brings his masked face close to mine.
Then I feel his fingertips brush my skin as his hand pushes past the neckline of my robe and cups my left breast, weighing it in his palm. A rumble crawls up from somewhere deep in his chest as his thumb flicks my nipple.
Oh, God.
Electric currents flow through me like little pin-pricks of energy, and I gasp at the feeling. I move to pull away, but my back is already flush against the wall.
“Don’t,” I whisper.
He chuckles. “You want me to stop?”
His hand is warm, and the way he’s toying with my nipple…it feels like little firecrackers exploding in my bloodstream. I have to bite my bottom lip to keep from groaning.
“ Shhh, allow yourself to enjoy it,” he says in that gravely whisper again.
I pull in a shaky breath, my body coming alive, like it’s waking up from a deep sleep. I haven’t been touched like this in a long, long time—since the psych building incident with Christian—and the electricity of this guy’s touch zips down my spine with terrifying intensity.
My body clearly has a mind and agenda of its own.
“I’m not allowing myself to do anything,” I bite back defiantly.
Pinching my nipple between his fingers, he rolls it, and I let out a little gasp—not on purpose.
“Suit yourself,” he says. “But this could be fun if you just relaxed a little.”
Mmm, no .
“Why, so you can feel better about doing this?”
Not that I think any of these guys have an actual conscience. They’d have to be human for that. So, far, all I’ve seen are horny, ego-driven monsters.
Instead of answering, he laughs under his breath—like all of this is so damn funny. Asshole. I wonder how funny a knee to his balls would be? I try to lift my leg, but he’s crowding me, and his large body prevents me from moving even an inch.
“Who are you?” I ask. Not that it really matters. They’re all the same.
“I’d tell you, but why ruin the fun?”
He must have lifted his mask, because his lips are on me now, gently skimming up my neck. His warm mouth finds my earlobe and he bites down, sending a shard of pain straight through my body, all the way down to my pulsing clit.
No, no, no.
Politics. Math. Taxes.
It’s not working. My entire body is tense and trembling. It’s only been a handful of minutes, and I’m already melting in this random guy’s palm.
What the hell is happening?
With another warm chuckle, the stranger removes his hand from the robe and slides it around to the small of my back, tugging my lower half against him. The hard ridge of his erection bites into my pelvic bone, and I gulp.
There’s no question what he intends to do.
“ Mmm , you like that?” he asks.
The hand on my back glides down to my ass, then he drops to his knees. Blinking rapidly, I try to make sense of what’s happening. But before I can even ask, he grips the back of my thigh and positions it over his shoulder. One long finger brushes over my clit through the thin fabric of my panties.
“You’ve soaked right through your panties.”
Gritting my teeth, I twist my head to the side and squeeze my eyes shut, mortified. “Fuck you.”
“ Mmm, ” he intones, that deep rumble vibrating through my veins. “If you’re lucky.”
Then his mouth closes over my pussy and he bites down through my panties. Holy shit. I rise up onto the tips of my toes with a silent gasp. The sharp sting of his teeth is so intense, my entire body convulses. It’s like an earthquake wracking my body, twisting me open, and I can’t help it, I rock my hips forward.
“You’re trembling.” His voice is low. “Are you afraid of me?”
He thinks my reaction is due to fear. Good. Let him think that. It’s better than him knowing this masked shit actually turns me on. It’s not that I’m ashamed of it—we all have our kinks, right? I just don’t want the Burning Crown knowing anything they can use against me.
His breath hitches as he pulls the crotch of my panties aside, then leans forward and sucks on my clit, rolling it between his teeth—and that nearly undoes me. It’s been so long since I’ve had an orgasm that I’m like a powder keg ready to explode. One little spark and God willing, I’ll go up in flames and take this whole fucking house down with me…