Page 17 of Fright Night (Twisted Holidays #3)

SIXTEEN

OAKLEY

Knox’s mouth slashes against mine, and for a second, everything in the world stops moving. Stops turning. Just stops, and his lips on mine are all that matters.

Soft yet unyielding, he stokes a fire within me.

The same one he stacked the wood for during the week I moved into his house.

The one that’s been smouldering since the first time I wiped his wounds.

It’s a burn that ripples through me head to toe and threatens to take me alive if I don’t succumb to him.

As messed-up as it may be, I want to be consumed by him. How we got to this point—the chase, his dupe—none of it matters.

If I was once strong enough to continue fighting, his kiss destroys that will. I’m not strong enough for anything else. I’m barely remaining upright as is.

His hand around my throat constricts, and the way my body reacts, it’s like he probed the sensitive place inside my core. His thumb brushes my pulse, reassuring me he knows exactly what he’s doing—and I trust him not to actually choke me, even when his grip tightens again.

His kiss shifts into a smile. With the hand around my throat, he pushes me down, his strength buckling my legs.

“On your knees.”

His command weaves through me in an unexpected manner, and though my nerves are taut with uncertainty because the last time I was on my knees for him, he was crouched behind me and then left me on the edge, I find the ground rushing towards me. His fingertips are now a mere brush against my skin.

“Fuckin’ dreamed of this.” He murmurs it so softly, the wind takes it away and I almost believe he never opened his mouth. “You on your knees like this.”

“For how long?”

“Started to fall for you the first time you cleaned me up.”

That was a few weeks after moving in. Though Knox and I barely spared one another any attention, his pain was too obvious to ignore. Even when he demanded I leave him be, I sat him on the edge of the bathtub and wiped the blood away with a warm cloth. We didn’t speak. We didn’t need to.

His hand travels upwards, back to my mouth, ending the memory.

My lips part for him on instinct, without instruction—because being with Knox is like being a different person.

A person I’d rather be than the one I’ve been living.

The perfect daughter. The quiet head of the planning department.

The one trying to protect her stepfather from embarrassment.

Knox makes me feel powerful. He shows me desire in a way never imagined before. He’s urging me to change my future.

“But when you first tricked me, that really solidified my feelings,” he continues.

His hand traces my face as he walks around me. He gathers my hair to shift it off my neck, and when he bends down, his lips create patterns of goosebumps.

“Trick. That’s what you say if something gets too much. Trick and it stops. Understand?”

I nod.

“Alright. Be good and stay here for a moment, ’kay? Don’t move from this position. When I return, I wanna see you like this. A pretty fairy on her knees amidst the fallen leaves.”

My wings were cast aside a few feet away, making his nickname feel a bit pointless.

He heads for the maze’s path that leads away from the centre. After everything, he’s walking away and leaving me kneeling on the cold, hard ground in the middle of a Halloween maze, long after dark?

Um…

His exit barely makes sense, unless everything he recently said is false. What if this is another trick? What if he’s leaving the park entirely and going home, laughing at his stepsister kneeling for nothing?

I should go too. Say fuck this and head home. All this douses the fire his kiss lit.

My knees shift, repositioning. My ass lowers to rest on my heels and I bring my arms closer together. With it getting so late, the nighttime chill of fall is setting in and this costume isn’t meant to protect me from the cold.

Minutes pass, but even checking my phone is useless, being unaware of what time it was when he left.

A few more minutes go by and I’m on the verge of giving up. Obviously, he’s abandoned me or else he wouldn’t have been gone this long. It’s a cruel trick to make me desire him, only to pull back at the last second. Like last night, but somehow worse too because this time I was all-in.

With a resigned huff, I stand on shaky legs, gather my phone and fake wings, straighten my dress, and leave. When I turn the corner of the maze, an imposing form is right there, mask on his face, knife twirling around in his hand.

“Knox,” I breathe, unsure if my pounding heart is due to nerves or relief. Both, perhaps.

“And where,” his low purr emulates from behind the glowing mask, “do you think you’re going?

Didn’t I tell you to stay on your knees where you belong?

” His hand snaps towards me and fists the costume, which feels so much more delicate now.

With it, he hauls me against his chest and I toss my phone to the side for safety.

“If you wanna be my whore, you have to obey.”

“You didn’t come back.”

The mask tips to the side, in that silent and unnerving way he does.

My heart pounds even faster when he brings the blade towards me, twirling it before slicing the ribbons tying the bosom of my dress together.

Against the sharp blade, the satin doesn’t hold up—but neither does he.

Once the ribbons are useless to ever tie the dress again, he continues, cutting it down to my waist before ripping it the rest of the way.

The material flutters to the ground by my feet.

Then I realize what all this was for. He’s trying to elevate my blood pressure. Make me scared of him. Make me scream .

I can play along.

As he lowers for the dress, I run away, pushing around him and heading for the only exit in the maze. By the end of the path, I peek over my shoulder, spotting my phone and dress where I left them, but no Knox.

Strange…but I don’t turn around, continuing for the exit, aware that in my dress-less state, walking home isn’t an option. If I even make it that far. Hopefully he realizes I’m only playing his game and not running away for real.

As I turn the corner, I slam into a figure—again—and a masked Knox stands there, arms crossed over his chest, the knife still in his grip.

“H-how…?” It’s too dark to see for certain, but I’m convinced he altered this maze somehow and that’s how he’s been cheating.

His single step forward is all it takes for my heart to flutter like a hummingbird. Uncertain what he’s about to do, but thrilled nonetheless, I’m forced to admit Knox is right about fear leading to pleasure.

I feel alive .

He snaps forward and grabs my throat, forcing me to kneel again. His thumb traces over the mouth he recently kissed, and I already know that version of him and him now are two different people.

“ This is how I expected to find you waiting.”

“You left,” I explain again, since the first time was met with stony silence.

“It was only a matter of time until you came to me.” Although his eyes are covered, I’d bet they’re glinting with sin. “Unzip me and pay the price.”

My gaze falls to his jeans, feeling like I’m in another world, and I reach forward to carefully tug the zipper down and undo his pants. His cock falls out in my hand, hard and long with smooth skin I immediately run my hands over, my thighs pressing against one another.

I want to taste him.

He bats my hands away, fists my hair, and twists the strands until I’m gazing up at him. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t have to. Silence is Knox’s language, and it’s one I understand all too well. As his thumb brushes the underside of my jaw, he releases a low, approving noise.

“Suck me, Trickster. Show me how you can obey at least one command tonight.”

Despite his order, it’s he who yanks me forward, the head of his cock slipping between my lips. He’s thick along my tongue and I manage to take him all the way to the back of my throat. My hand strokes what doesn’t fit, but as he thrusts, it’s all sort of uncoordinated.

Not that he seems to care. Looking up between my lashes, his head is tilted to the side, as though he doesn’t have the energy to hold it upright while also keeping me in sight. I wish he’d lose the mask to make his face visible.

As I pull back, my tongue pushes along the underside of his head, only to be rewarded with a low moan.

“This is what got me through the nights. Imagining you like this. All pretty for me, moanin’ around my cock like you’ll never get enough.”

Not sure I ever will. Not after this experience.

Despite the heat behind his statement, he sounded lonely too. I really don’t know much about his time away, but after this, I plan on asking him.

The closer his orgasm approaches, the quicker his thrusts, and the less I’m able to focus on suction. His hand clenches tighter in my hair but then abruptly he tugs me off him, panting.

He discards the mask to the side, releases my hair, and stares down with such reverence it knocks the breath from my lungs for a whole new reason.

“Turn around.”

I do, getting on my hands and knees, a similar position to how he had me earlier. He lowers to his knees behind me and his cock glides against the wetness between my legs—courtesy of sucking him off.

I angle my hips with a low whine, trying to urge him inside me, but still he hesitates, his fingers clenched around my hips.

“I’m on the pill,” I guess the reason for his hesitation.

“Thank fuck.”

Knox pushes between my shoulder blades, arching my body, and slams inside me in one go. He pulls back halfway before thrusting all the way home.

My fingers dig into the ground. This is…it’s too much.

He slowly rocks into me, gentler than I imagined he could be, and croons as he rubs a hand down my back. He does it again, only this time, I flinch as the telltale cool and sharp tip of his knife rests against my spine.

“You’re obsessed with that thing.”

“Because it keeps you on edge.”

He isn’t wrong.

The knife travels down my spine, over my hip, and down my right thigh before moving between my legs.

He isn’t…?

The blade lightly nicks my inner thigh, inches from where he’s pushing inside me. I stiffen while also trying to arch my body in case he thrusts too hard and actually cuts me.

“Knox?”

“Mm?” He lowers himself over my back as the knife continues tracing invisible lines around my pussy. “Scared, Trickster?”

“No.” I rock back into him, feeling the sting slice my skin at the same time. My curse accompanies the air, and maybe I’m a tiny bit afraid now.

He chuckles darkly. “Not scared because you didn’t truly believe I’d cut you. Now you know.”

“Know that you’re crazy.”

“ You make me crazy, Oakley. No one else.”

When my legs start to shake, when I’m arching in a way that allows him to hit deep while careful of the knife he has against my skin, I’m ready to let go. Ready for what he didn’t give me last night.

The knife slides away and I nearly weep in relief. But then it’s back; the blade now flat and taps once, twice, three times against my clit, sparking me to another kind of life.

“Come, Trickster. Let me hear you.”

I think the next town over could hear me with how loud my yell is. With how good and relieving it is to be allowed to come by Knox’s design. It’s a never-ending sensation that drops my head to the ground.

The moment I start to come down, Knox slips from me, tosses the knife to the side, and flips me onto my back. He lines himself up and slams home with a deep cry. His body lowers over me, elbows beside my head and hands grasping my face, his fingers angling it up.

His mouth crashes against mine as he kisses me into and through my next orgasm. Then he hikes my thigh around his hip and lifts away slightly, gazing down at me with more emotion than I’ve ever seen from him.

“One more, Oakley. One more just for me.”

He slams deep, rough, one hand propelling him while the other tangles in my hair to push me down on his cock. He’s literally pounding me into the dirt; my body sliding up every so often. My cries are mindless, head tipped back to the moon above.

“Knox…Knox, I’m coming again.” My other leg wraps around his waist, keeping him tight inside me.

His hold gets rougher, guaranteeing bruises will be the lasting impression of this night. Ones more obvious than the mark he’s left on my soul.

He hits deep once, twice, and then white dots fill my vision as my body clenches around him.

Heat fills my insides from his own orgasm, and he slowly comes down with heavy pants, releasing both my hair and my thigh with a long, sated sigh that feels more exposed than any other emotion he’s revealed since coming home.

His dark eyes flick around my face. There’s a story buried within his. More truths to be revealed, but in a language I only partially understand.

He lowers on top of me and kisses me a final time. Closed mouth and sweet, but packed with a passion involving years of unspoken words.