Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 142764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Maybe that’s what I want? What I need.
The thrill of being caught makes my blood hum and my core clench tightly. A smart girl would end this right here, right now, but I don’t want to end this.
My muscles burn and ache in protest as I up my pace.
Ahead, I narrowly miss a downed tree, and I catch myself on the trunk of another tree. I forget that one of my hands is occupied with a bottle of vodka, and only realize it after the glass shatters, the liquor spilling down my arm.
Ugh. I clutch the now broken bottleneck in my freezing hands, my subconscious telling me to keep it with me as I continue. My stomach churns around all that liquor, and I pray I don't have to stop and puke.
Don’t find me, Drew.
Speaking of him. It doesn’t actually take him long to do. Drew’s conditioned for this game. Made to hunt the prey. To catch, skin, and eat. A true huntsman if I ever saw one. He’s on me in seconds.
His fingers brush against my hand, and I turn and swipe at him. A sharp hiss fills my ears. The sound reminds me of a soda can when you open it. There’s a warm spray of something against my hand, and I pause, confused for a half second.
What the hell? I consider stopping to see what it is that is on my hands, but I can’t. The need to keep going consumes me. Instead, I speed up, running faster, pushing my small legs harder, while he slows.
"What the fuck, Bel?" he shouts from somewhere behind me.
I can’t tell if he’s angry or concerned.
Then again, it doesn’t matter if he’s angry or concerned, right?
If he catches me, the result will be the same. With each of my senses on high alert, I find myself peering over my shoulder, my ears listening for any noise. The cold air pricks at my skin, and my lungs burn with every breath I take.
The hammering of my heartbeat is the only thing I can hear until Drew’s angry, almost bitter laughter rips through the trees. It’s venomous, evil sounding, and every cell in my body orders me to run and hide. The old me would’ve done just that, but I’m not scared of the monster hiding in the dark.
I urge myself forward, my muscles tightening and protesting as I force myself to keep going. Branches slap against my arms and midsection, slowing me down, and my feet slip on the wet ground. I can hear his feet trampling the ground behind me.
He’s close.
"If you wanted me to chase you, Flower, all you had to do was say so. I’m always up for hunting you down in the forest and making you beg for me to fuck you. I mean, I'm getting hard just reliving one of the best moments of my life. The day I got to claim you.”
Fuck, why doesn’t he sound winded?
Meanwhile, I feel like I’ve been running for hours. I slow so I don't trip, and since he doesn't immediately wrap his arm around me and take me to the ground, I assume he's slowed as well. Shit. He's definitely toying with me.
"Just." Inhale. Exhale. "Let." Cough. Gasp. Cough. "Me go."
There's a chuckle near a tree to my left.
I twist, looking in that direction, but he’s not there.
"Not a chance. We’ve been over this, and I understand more than anyone how stubborn and unruly you can be, so I guess I’ll have to do my best to show you. What do you think I should do? Bite you? Leave hickeys all over your neck? Take you in the dirt all over again?"
Damn him.
Even if I don’t want to be, I'm turned on.
The forest grows quiet, and I slow further. My gut instinct tells me to stop. I don't trust it. It's too quiet. There’s not even a stir of underbrush around me.
I stop running and suck air into my lungs like I’m dying. There's a stitch in my side, and nausea sifts through me like sand in an hourglass. Up feels like down, and down feels like up. I can’t comprehend what’s going on, not until a pair of strong arms circle my waist and lift me off my feet in one move. I’m suspended in the air for half a second before I’m tossed over his shoulder.
A squeak escapes my lips, and I kick out my legs while clawing at him the best I can, the neck of the glass bottle still in my hand. "Let me go!"
"Why would I do that? You ran, I chased, and caught you. Now I get to do whatever I want to you.”
A scream climbs out of my throat and pierces the air.
“Fuck, yes. Scream for me, Bel. You know how much I love it.”