Page 5 of Carnival

Rose

I don’t remember the last time I had to run.

To actually put my strength into it and run as if my life depended on it, because right now, my life quite literally does depend on my speed.

The branches break under my bare feet, and I’m pretty sure I stepped on something sharp.

It hurts, but the thought of what could possibly happen to me hurts more.

So, I push forward, running into the woods like a lunatic.

It only occurred to me that I should’ve gone for the road after I was already in the woods, but by that point, it was already too late.

He’s close behind me, but he’s not running as fast as he can.

He’s toying with me, enjoying this game of cat and mouse a little too much.

Occasionally, his deep laughter would fill the surroundings, and I’d have to wonder which direction it was coming from. My skin’s filled with goosebumps, and my hair’s a mess and constantly falling over my eyes.

The sound of my heartbeat and the deafening silence in the dark woods consume me, my shallow breathing coming out in pants. The more I look around, the more I find myself lost in this terrible situation.

I’m not familiar with my surroundings; hence, I have no idea where I’m going. I don’t know where this small path is taking me, where the forest ends, and if there’s a road on the other side. All I know is that I can’t stop running.

And the worst part is that this excites me.

Adrenaline pumps in my veins, and I no longer feel cold. My entire body is on fire, and I can barely realize that there’s a small smile on my lips. My heart is hammering against my chest, threatening to leap straight out. Yet, it fills me with a sense of contentment.

I trip over a small branch, landing on my knees. The burns are tingling, the sensations spreading through my body. With a deep breath, I push myself back to my feet, ignoring the ache when I step back onto the ground.

With a glance over my shoulder to make sure he’s not anywhere near me, I continue running. It’s too dark; the trees are massive, the branches thick, and if it weren’t for the moonlight that’s peeking through, I wouldn’t be able to see where I’m going.

A loud gasp slips from me when I’m slammed against the nearest tree. My eyes widen – he’s right in front of me. He holds me by the throat, fingers firmly pressed against the sides, but not enough to cut off oxygen, just enough to keep me in place.

The way moonlight shines down on his mask causes goosebumps to prickle my skin. The remains of dried blood, the crack in the mask, and the creepy, eerie expression. Though, all I can focus on is his eyes.

“What are you going to do to me?” I choke out, voice breaking.

He leans in closer, his breath tickling my skin. “What do you think I’ll do to you, my hellion?”

I swallow thickly, too scared to blink. “Kill me?”

My whisper seems to amuse him, his shoulders moving for a few moments as he chuckles, then shakes his head.

If it were a different scenario, I’d point out that he is quite literally holding me by the throat, pressing me further up against the tree, but I don’t voice it out. Instead, I try to ignore this burning ache between my legs.

He tilts his head to the side, then pushes his knee between my legs, eyes darting to my face and to my body before he settles them back on my face. It’s silent, with our hearts beating in sync. My breath is ragged, still labored from the intensity of running.

“You can’t begin to imagine how long I’ve waited for this moment,’’ he murmurs. “How long I’ve been waiting for you to come back to me.’’

It’s getting increasingly more difficult to control my own body. The sound of his deep voice reverberating around us, the low tone that’s only meant for my ears to hear, and the dark, sinister sincerity of his words cause a wave of deeply rooted desire to sprout.

He sounds obsessed.

He is obsessed.

In one swift motion, he releases the hold he has on my throat, ripping a piece of his shirt. My brows narrow, and the questions soon answer themselves – he uses the small piece of cloth as a makeshift blindfold, tying it and securing it at the back of my head.

He spins me around so that I’m facing the tree, holding my hands back with one of his, the other one trailing patterns down my spine. I shudder at the sensation, and he chuckles, continuing his maneuvers.

“You know…’’, he leans in, whispering in my ear.

His body pressed against mine, and for a moment, I don’t know whether I should focus on the words he’s telling me or the raging bulge in his pants that’s pressing further into my ass.

“Fear smells delicious on you. But more than that, I can fucking smell that you’re turned on, my hellion. ’’

My cheeks flush, and the fact that I can’t see anything only serves to further arouse me.

It’s such a fucked-up situation; my mind and body aren’t aligning.

My brain’s telling me to scream, yell, and try to fight him off, yet the longer he’s touching me, the more my body surrenders to the carnal needs.

I don’t say anything; I’m too scared. Instead, I let this man, the same man who’s taken my virginity, touch me; the same man who’s most likely going on yearly killing sprees; the same man who’s wearing a bloody mask on his face.

The same man whose name I don’t know.

His fingertips burn through the fabric of my nightwear, leaving marks on my flesh. I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but the moisture between my legs is getting harder and harder to ignore. And the worst part? I want him to do something about it.

“Please,’’ I whisper. “Let me go.’’

It comes out so pathetic, and I don’t even believe the words I’m saying. No, I don’t want him to let me go. Gently, he brushes the hair off my shoulder, throwing it over the other. His fingertips graze my pulse point, and I have to bite my lip to prevent a pathetic sound from slipping.

“Do you truly want me to let you go?” He whispers back in a much more vicious tone. “Or do you want me to give you the relief that no one but me would ever be able to give you, my hellion?”

My heart starts beating furiously, and although I don’t see what’s happening, a shuffling noise reaches my ears. The next thing I feel is his lips on my neck. Instinctively, I tilt my head to the side to give him better access when I realize why he blindfolded me.

He planned on taking the mask off all this time and didn’t want me to see his face.

His lips feel divine on my skin. He kisses, sucks, and nibbles on the sensitive flesh, sending a wave of electricity straight to my core. His free hand sneaks up my shirt, his big hand sprawled across my stomach, gently caressing it.

“You taste even better than I remember,’’ he mumbles against my skin, and my eyes squeeze shut, trying to control myself.

But my resolve is crumbling, and the inner desires are starting to win.

“All I want to do is fuck you against this tree, my hellion. God, you don’t know how much I’m controlling myself right now. ’’

I’m not sure what comes over me. Maybe it’s the taboo nature of this encounter, this entire situation, or the fact that this man is the only one I’ve ever been with.

After he took my virginity, I couldn’t bring myself to sleep with anyone else, and now that I’m right back in his claws, I want him to fuck me again.

Without thinking, I arch my back, and the thin material of the pajama bottoms isn’t helping. I feel his cock twitching, and I swallow a lump in my throat, knowing that he’s not someone who reacts to provocations well.

A low chuckle comes from him, and he releases my wrists, using his hand to grab a handful of my hair and pull my head back, his lips lingering on my ear.

“I tried giving you a way out, and you didn’t take it.’’

His hand moves from my stomach to the hem of my pajama bottoms, roughly pulling them down. The black lace underwear I have on already has a dark, wet patch, and it only continues to grow as his hand grips my ass tightly, promising to leave a bruise.

He moves my underwear to the sides, his finger finding my clit immediately.

A low moan comes from me as he starts teasing me, rubbing it in a painfully slow manner.

His touch is magnetic; it’s pulling me in to experience the depth of his depravity.

He touches my entrance with his thumb, not quite slipping it inside, and I’m getting closer and closer to just begging him to give me what I want.

“You look so pretty when you’re helpless and desperate for me. So pretty,’’ he leans forward, kissing the soft spot behind my ear. “And you’re soaking for me. It’s fucking adorable.’’

“I don’t even know your name,’’ I croak out, steadying myself by placing my palms on the tree in front of me.

He chuckles. “James. My name is James.’’

Fucking hell, not a J name.

The sound of his belt unbuckling causes me to turn my head over my shoulder, as if I could see anything. His zipper goes down, and before I can think, his fingers are replaced by the tip of his cock.

His precum coats my clit, and he rubs it with the tip a few times, my small moans the only sound in this deadly silent forest. His hold on my hair tightens, and he pulls my head back at the same time when he pushes his cock inside of me.

In one quick, rough thrust, he bottoms out in me, and I scream out. The thickness of his cock catches me off guard, because unlike the first time we had sex, I’m not drunk now. My inner walls clench on him, my stomach doing a backflip at the sudden intrusion.

“Fuck,’’ he hisses, moving his hands to grip my hips. He doesn’t move, and I feel his cock twitching inside me as he holds me close to him. “So wet for me.’’

Then he starts moving, and I don’t even try to stop the moans that are coming out of my mouth repeatedly.

He’s brutal and rough, and the pace he’s set makes my head spin.

The sound of our bodies clapping together overpowers my whimpers, and the way he’s holding onto my hips as he slams me onto his cock makes me see stars.

James moves his hands under my shirt, gripping and groping my breasts. He squeezes them, groaning slightly. He kisses my neck again, then his lips travel up to my ears.

“I’ve missed this wet cunt, Rose,’’ he whispers.

My entire body feels as if he’s lighting me on fire, the constant warmth inside me intensifying with each rough thrust. I moan, bucking my hips against him.

This is fucking insane.

I never thought I’d be here, letting a man who’s allegedly a serial killer fuck me against a tree. Even less for the said man to be the very same man who took my virginity. It’s humiliating, it’s dehumanizing, and I’m loving every second of it.

His cock is thick, and I can feel him stretch me out as much as possible. He doesn’t slow down, and the fact that my vision’s restricted makes this entire thing more erotic. I don’t see him, but I can feel every single moment of this.

The way he rolls my erect nipples between his fingers, the way his hot breath is pricking my skin, causing goosebumps to appear all over. Even the smallest hairs on my neck stand up straight, his lips feeling blazing hot against my flesh.

My eyes are closed, and soon enough, the familiar sensation builds in the pit of my stomach. It hits me instantly, before I can even react. His name falls from my lips like the dirtiest little secret, the most desperate plea, as I come undone, my walls clenching down on him.

He continues to thrust into me, prolonging my orgasm before biting down on my shoulder as hard as possible, climaxing inside me with a low groan.

My breath is labored, and mixed with the running I did a while ago, I’m exhausted. Which is why I don’t fight it when my legs give out and I fall into a dreamless, dark sleep.