FIVE
WILLOW
Lungs burning, clothes torn, and dirt smudged on my hands and knees, I’m frozen on the ground.
An unwanted heat throbs between my legs at the sight of Dante. He looks unhinged with the fake blood smeared over his bare chest beneath the open trench coat, the dark red stickiness oozing down the side of his face from his hair. His face paint is messed up, only a partial image of a skull around his eye and cheek remains.
Then his eyes meet mine and he does the unthinkable. He licks the blood from his fingers. Not a quick suck to clean BBQ sauce, this asshole brings every dirty fantasy I’ve had about Billy Loomis to life by curling his tongue around his long fingers obscenely.
It’s hot. Unfairly hot. Disturbingly hot.
And I can’t take my eyes off him.
The air between us crackles with an intense sizzle. It’s a mix of our adrenaline and the inescapable connection we share that makes it impossible to ignore each other.
“You still gonna run?”
He smirks. “Or do you admit defeat?”
Dante’s words kick me back into gear. What the hell am I doing? I need to get away and I’m screwing up my chance by sitting in the dirt staring at him.
I should’ve run while he was distracted by getting caught in his own sick Carrie-themed trap instead of forgetting my fear in favor of checking out my goddamn bully.
With a desperate sound scraping my throat, I push to my feet and run. Every branch, tree, and boulder looks the same in the shadows. Every labored breath sears my lungs and a stitch forms in my side. I’m not the athletic type, but my body screams at me to keep going.
That's all I can think about. Instead of forming a plan or searching for my lost phone to call for help, I put all my effort into the mantra running through my head: one foot in front of the other. As long as I stay ahead of him, I’ll be safe.
I keep making all the mistakes I usually yell at horror movie heroines for doing, but now I realize it’s human instinct and fear fighting the adrenaline coursing through my veins. Logical thought is almost impossible.
The only spare brain space I have left is stuck wondering what the look he gave me while he licked his fingers meant.
This whole night is fucked up. Dante lured me out here just to hunt me down. We snipe at each other every chance but this… I had no idea he was capable of something this sinister.
My feet slam the ground with each step. I’m not doing a great job at being quiet, but it’s all I manage in order to keep running.
A gnarled branch snags my damaged skirt. I’m about ready to rip the damn thing off, but that leaves me in only the velvet bodice and fishnets. Not that the sheer skirt provides a lot of coverage, but something stops me. Instead, when I tear it free with a vicious tug, I encourage the torn fabric to continue to my hip and tie it off at the slit. Now I have more movement.
I pause for a beat, holding my twinging side while I get my bearings. It’s useless. I have no idea which direction is the right choice, where the party is in relation to where I’ve been circling, or where he is.
Actually. I strain my ears. I was so intent on getting away, I wasn’t paying attention to him following me. The woods are still and quiet around me. It’s eerie.
A shadow looms behind me when I make another turn and a scream lodges in my throat as it lunges for me. We both go down when it tackles me. I’m done for.
Fresh tears prick my eyes as my baser instincts take over. I don’t know if it’s better to play dead or fight.
I must be a fighter deep down, because I squirm like hell against the weight on top of me.
At first, I believe it’s a cougar about to eat me and drag my bones back to its den.
Then it registers that it’s not growling that I’m hearing above the rapid pounding of my heart.
It’s fucking laughter. Deep, cruel chuckling.
The faint scent of woodsmoke registers.
Dante.
“No,” I beg.
“Yes. Stop struggling.”
With a grunt, he gets to his feet while keeping my wrists pinned together. I kick at him. He swings me around, throwing me off balance.
“Playtime’s over,”
Dante grits out. His arm locks around my waist and he half-forces, half-drags me in the opposite direction. No matter how hard I struggle, he doesn’t release me. “I’m tired of playing chase. This time I’m not letting my prey go.”
“Come on, Dante. This is insane. I know we hate each other, but this is crazy.”
My words tumble out of me in a rush. I toss out anything my scattered mind supplies to make him stop. “Why are you doing this to me? What the fuck do you want?”
“Your pain.”
He jerks me and gets in my face, seething. “Your tears.”
He licks the dried mascara-smeared tear stain on my cheek and my stomach clenches. “Looks like I got them.”
“You’re sick,” I spit.
“All thanks to you.”
My brows furrow. I don’t get how I’m the reason he’s so fucked up in the head.
A secluded cabin enters the edge of my vision and I renew my struggling. I claw at his arms and wriggle as hard as possible, aggravating the cramp in my side that hasn’t subsided. Dante might have caught me, but there’s no way in hell I’m going down without a fight.
“Let me go!”
“Not a chance in hell, baby. This isn’t over.”
Dante hoists me up the stone steps and gets the door open. The inside is dim, illuminated only by the pools of moonlight pouring in from the window. There isn’t much inside other than a double bed with a quilt in the corner, a wood stove, and a sitting area with rustic furniture.
Fear races through me that he might actually hurt me. Out there in the woods, being chased and encountering the callous booby traps designed to terrify me suddenly seems the lesser of two evils.
“What do you want with me?”
I demand with as much steel in my voice as I can muster.
“I want you to pay,”
he growls.
“Fuck you.”
I unleash hell on him, managing to wrestle free from his hold. He charges me, flinging my purse away. I fight more fiercely. He grunts when one of my kicks lands. As hard as I fight, he only deflects. It registers belatedly that as much as he’s scared me tonight, he won’t strike me.
Planting my hands on his chest, I shove hard. He only falls back a step before he’s in my face, herding me until my back hits the wall. My eyes go wide and he smirks. I bare my teeth and release a frustrated noise.
“That’s right. There’s no way you can get out of this. No one’s coming to save you, either.”
“You’re a deranged maniac. What is the matter with you? If I go to the police, this is grounds for harassment, maybe assault.”
“It was a prank. Get over it. You won’t be able to prove anything. Lowell and the guys will back me up. It’ll be my word against yours.”
A dark look crosses his face. “Do you know how much pull my grandma has in this town? She’ll fucking crush you if you’re any kind of threat to her.”
With another angry snarl, I fight against him, hissing insults and curses. He represents everything I hate in this town. The overprivileged getting away with murder. The judgmental assholes. His license to bully me.
Dante is my nightmare. A devil on the lake.
In the struggle, neither of us realize it when something shifts from me trying to attack him and him deflecting, to him pulling me so close I could climb inside his chest if I cracked open his ribcage. His hand is in my hair, almost cradling my head, and when one of us releases a ragged pant, the other breathes it in, sharing each breath.
We both freeze and stare at each other. Dante’s gaze falls to my lips and his fingers curl in my hair. I don’t know if he moves first, or me, but we crash together in a kiss.
This is so wrong. I can’t stand him. But I can’t stop, and neither does he.
A moan leaves me when his tongue slips past my lips. He tastes sweet from the sticky fake blood. He crushes his body into mine, pinning me completely to the wall. His hardness digs into my belly. His mouth is demanding, hot and relentless as he kisses me deeply.
We shouldn’t be doing this. We hate each other. He’s bullied and terrorized me. Yet kissing him is addictive. It’s intense, charged with the razor thin line between hate and lust.
He tears his mouth away. I nearly pull him back for another kiss by the grip I have on his hair, but he mouths and bites his way down my neck. I suck in a breath as he bites my throat while sweeping his hand down my side.
I’m powerless to stop him when he pulls my bodice to the side in a deft move, and slips his fingers between my legs like he owns my body. I feel his grin against my skin when he finds I’m not wearing underwear beneath my outfit, only fishnets. I cry out as he cups my pussy, teasing my entrance between the thin webs of my stockings.
“Look at you, goth girl. Knew you’d be wet as fuck. You’re a little slut for freaky shit.”
Humiliation burns through me, but what he’s doing feels too good. My clit aches with pulsing heat and I widen my legs so he has better access. A wicked chuckle shakes his shoulders.
“See, slut. Fucking begging for it.”
He thrusts two fingers in me. I whack my head against the wall from tossing it back with a silent, open-mouthed gasp. His full lips skim the column of my throat, biting my pulse point. “Fuck, you feel good.”
“I hate you,”
I grit out.
The acerbic tone is ruined by the breathy moan that leaves me when his thumb circles my clit and his fingers curl inside me, lighting me up with pleasure.
“I hate you, too,”
he mutters. “Now shut up. I don’t want to hear a word out of you unless you’re begging for my cock to fuck you harder. Got it, little slut?”
My cheeks burn, but arousal rushes through me.
“Come here,”
he orders.
Dante’s fingers clamp on my wrist. He whips me around and he pushes on my back to bend me over the foot of the bed. A low rumble sounds behind me, then he smacks my ass. I jolt and kick at him.
“Dick.”
He slaps my ass again, squeezing hard enough to bruise. It tears a shocked gasp from me.
“What did I fucking say about that mouth? Need me to fuck it first so you learn to be quiet?”
I twist around and my hand lands with a satisfying crack across his face. “I’m not going to play your game.”
“You will if you want me to fuck that tight, wet pussy. I felt it, baby. You’re all swollen and needy. Aching for my cock to fill you until you scream.”
At the strangled noise I choke back, he grabs my hair and turns my head, speaking against my lips. “Answer me.”
He doesn’t give me the chance to, sealing his mouth over mine. I bite his tongue. He retaliates by nipping my lip.
But there’s one thing I can’t deny, and a minute later Dante knows it, too. The roughness makes the warmth pooling in my core burn hotter. Arousal coats my thighs. He repositions me where he wants and reaches between my legs, slipping his fingers inside past the fishnets again.
“Fucking soaked,”
he says in approval.
There’s a rustling of his jeans behind me, then his face presses into me from behind. He groans and my cheeks flush at having his face against my pussy. I gasp when his tongue flicks out to taste me.
“Bet you’re glistening for me, you filthy little slut.”
My breath hisses out of me as he yanks the stretchy velvet material of my bodice aside and tears the hole in the fishnets bigger so he has full access. He plants a hand on the bed next to me and the head of his cock rubs up and down my slick folds. Bare. I swallow.
“Dante—”
“Are you on the pill?”
He doesn’t stop grinding against me. “I don’t really care, I’m fucking you raw either way.”
“Y-yes,”
I choke out, unsure if I’m answering the question or responding to his dirty promise.
“Good. I want you dripping with my come, and when it leaks out of you, I’m pushing it back in.”
Arousal throbs in my center at the thought of him marking me in such an obscene, primal way. As much as I hate this asshole, I want that right now. I want him to fuck me with every fiber of my being.
Maybe I’m the insane one for wanting my bully to fuck me after he spent the night chasing me through the woods for his stupid prank.
Dante lines up and grips my hips. It’s the only warning I have before he sinks in on one deep thrust. A breath stutters out of both of us, his exhale fanning over the back of my neck. His grip tightens on me as he pulls out and snaps his hips again.
“Oh shit, baby.”
He groans. “Goddamn, your pussy is so tight.”
My breath hitches as each stroke of his cock sends bursts of pleasure to my nerve endings. He folds his body over mine, changing the angle to one that tears little noises of ecstasy from me. His fingers find the holes in my fishnets and tug, using them as leverage to fuck me harder.
“Oh god,”
I choke out.
“You like it like that, my dirty little slut? Shit, I’m going to cream in you so good you’ll never get me out of your pussy.”
I bite down on my tongue as my orgasm shocks me. I clench around his dick and squeeze the bunched up quilt in my hands while I ride the waves. He rumbles in approval, bringing his lips to my ear.
“Yeah, come all over my cock.”
His tone hardens into something demanding. “Tell me how it feels.”
Gritting my teeth against the pleasure, I growl, “And stroke your ego? Fuck no. I hate you and I’d rather bite your dick off than tell you anything.”
“Hate me all you want, baby,”
he mutters in my ear. “I’m still the one dicking you down so good you’re like a fucking vice around my cock.”
Dante fists my hair and angles my head back, claiming my mouth with a searing kiss as his thrusts slam into me. A cry tears free from me and he swallows it. I’m helpless to stop it because it feels so good. I don’t want to stop. I want more.
He inhales sharply as he’s feeding me his tongue, and another low rumble vibrates through his chest against my back. His thrusts stutter and his muscles seize.
“Fuck,”
he drags out.
Dante’s cock pulses inside me, filling me with his come. The sensation is erotic and it triggeers another burst of pleasure.
His laugh sounds delirious and he kneads my ass, still buried deep within me. “You come again? Can’t get enough of my cock painting your insides? Yeah, that’s sexy, baby.”
We both breathe raggedly. He stays inside, seemingly fascinated by tracing his long fingers around the place where our bodies are joined.
Finally, he pulls out. I feel oddly empty without his dick filling me. I roll over, scoot further onto the bed, and push tangled hair out of my face. He hooks a hand beneath my knee and spreads my legs, fitting himself between them, stretching the material of my bodice out of the way once more to leave me bared to him.
I watch him warily, teetering on the edge of uncertainty. Will he bring me pleasure or pain?
He doesn’t meet my eyes. His focus is locked on my pussy.
A faint sound escapes me as he gathers his come and pushes it back into me with his fingers. He curls them deep within me and I bite my lip.
“That get you hot, little slut? When I fuck my come back in you?”
A feral sound leaves him as he leans down to kiss me. “My little goth girl slut wants more. Come.”
Dante presses down on my clit and pumps his fingers. I arch into him and cry out as I shake apart for him.
“That’s it. Come, baby.”
He kisses me. Unlike before, it’s not as violent and hate-fueled. His mouth moves languidly against mine. He keeps playing with my pussy after my orgasm fades.
This is wrong.
This is twisted.
This is a madness I never want to wake up from.