64. Julian #4
“You are going to be the death of me,” I teased, but she just giggled, pushing herself up and smoothing down the white satin of her corset. She happily skipped out of the bedroom and down the hall, while I was left frantically adjusting my pants over a painfully hard, unsatisfied ache.
I followed her out, my heavy boots thudding against the hardwood. By the time I reached the foyer, Sage had pulled the heavy front door open, stepping out onto the porch.
“Hello?” she called out into the dark.
I stepped up behind her, my eyes instantly scanning the tree line. There were no kids. There were no cars in the driveway. The mountain was dead quiet.
“Who was it?”
“Nobody,” she frowned, looking down at the small patio table where we had left the massive bowl of lollies. “The bowl is still full. But… this was sitting on top of it.”
"She turned around, holding a vintage, aged heart locket."
I couldn’t even process.
Cain. He had bypassed the perimeter, somehow. He had walked right up to the front door while I was distracted in the bedroom. The suffocating dread I had felt in the car rushed back, wrapping around my throat like a physical hand.
“Just kids playing a trick, I guess,” Sage shrugged, oblivious to the predator lurking in the dark.
“Kids wandering around the mountain that didn’t take any of the lollies?” I said, sounding slightly on edge.
Before she could even lift her thumb to pry it open, I stepped forwards and snatched the locket straight out of her hand.
The sudden movement made her blink, her fingers left empty in the air.
I didn't want her looking inside. I wouldn't even know how to begin explaining the photo she'd find hidden behind that aged metal.
“Hey,” she protested softly, looking at her empty palm.
“I can’t see someone leaving a piece of jewellery as a trick, Sage,” I muttered, my fingers tightening over the cold vintage heart. I pushed the heavy steel door shut, instantly throwing the deadbolt, before turning back to face her. “But you don’t know who this belonged to, or what’s on it.”
Sage followed me into the kitchen, leaning against the marble island. She tilted her head, a playful, daring smirk spreading across her lips as she took in my rigid posture.
“Oh, lighten up, Mr. Executioner,” she teased, her voice dropping into a sultry, mocking lilt. “Is a little vintage necklace scaring the big, bad soldier?” she teased, her tone dripping with playful sarcasm. “What, do you think it’s cursed?”
She had no idea how much danger she was in, and I couldn’t tell her. If I panicked, she would panic. I needed to keep her distracted. I needed to keep her inside, and I needed to turn this terrifying night back into a game before she realised we were being watched and hunted.
I turned my head slowly, looking at her through the eyes of the skull mask.
I reached out and wrapped my black-gloved hand around the handle of the massive, steel chef’s knife resting in the butcher block on the counter. With a sharp, metallic shhhk, I pulled it free.
Sages darkened eyes widened for a split second, a genuine, thrilling spike of adrenaline flashing across her face before she forced her daring, flirty attitude back into place.
I took a slow, deliberate step towards her, fully locking back into the characters persona.
“I wouldn’t be laughing after leaving me in that bedroom like that,” I warned, the mask distorting my voice into a muffled threat.
I gestured down the hallway with the tip of the blade, before deliberately dropping my gaze down to my own waist. The thick, heavy outline of my cock was still straining brutally against the dark fabric of my pants, an undeniable testament to exactly how frustrated she had left me.
“You have a thirty second head start,” I decided, stepping into her space until my towering height shadowed her. The sexual tension in the kitchen spiked into something suffocating and dangerously taboo. “If I don’t find you in the next twenty minutes… you win. But if I catch you…”
I leaned in, the mouth of my mask brushing against the shell of her ear, my voice dropping into that low, gravelly crawl she couldn’t decide if she feared or craved.
I let the heavy handle of the knife trail a slow, teasing path down her spine, hooking it into the frame of her costume. I felt the shudder that rocked her—the perfect, delicious mix of terror and heat.
“I’m going to pin you face down,” I promised darkly. “I’m going to cut those little angel wings right off you. I want to see you grounded. I want to see you broken against the dirt.”
I pressed my body fully into hers, letting her feel the unyielding weight of my intent.
“And then I’m going to use the heavy handle of this knife on your pretty little ass, while I bury my cock so deep inside your pussy you won’t be able to remember your own name. I’m stripping the angel out of you tonight, Sage. I intend on proving just how far from innocent you really are.”
I swear she stopped breathing.
Her eyes went wide, her pupils dilating into massive black pools of fear laced desire. Her chest heaved against the tight corset, the high voltage attraction between us mixed with the filthy degradation of my threat rendering her speechless.
I tilted my head, letting out a dark, mocking laugh.
“Now,” I mocked, spinning the knife effortlessly in my gloved hand. “Who’s scared? Time is ticking, little angel. You better get running.”
“But remember, Sage—there’s only one rule tonight. We play inside only. If you even think about touching a door handle to the outside, the game stops… and the real punishment begins.”
She stared at me for one more breathless, heart stopping second. A flushed, wicked thrill took over her face.
She spun around on her heels, but instead of running down the hallway to hide in one of the bedrooms, she sprinted straight for the living room, threw open the back glass sliding doors and just before she disappeared into the shadows, she paused, glancing back over her shoulder with a wild disobedient glint in her eyes.
She held her hand high, firmly sticking her middle finger up at me and bolted out into the pitch black night of the mountains.
Fuck.