Page 21 of Haunted (Blackwood Brothers #1)

MIRA

I can’t believe I’ve been so monumentally stupid.

I know I should have seen this coming. The maze wasn’t designed to give us a fair chance—it was designed to trap us where the hunters want. And I walked right into it like some naive lamb to slaughter.

The golden light reveals exactly what kind of room I’ve stumbled into, and my stomach drops to my feet.

Leather restraints hang from the ceiling in elegant suspension points, their buckles gleaming like jewelry in the warm light that spills between the shadows of the room.

A massive four-poster bed dominates the center of the space, its black silk sheets pristine and waiting.

Heavy iron chains are built directly into the stone walls, their links thick enough to hold someone indefinitely.

My eyes dart frantically around the space as Xavier moves closer behind me, his presence a wall of heat and danger at my back .

A padded bench sits against one wall, its surface worn smooth from use. Beside it, an antique armoire stands open to reveal an array of implements—silk blindfolds, leather paddles, ropes in various thicknesses, and things I don’t even want to identify.

“Looking for something?”

Xavier’s voice is pure venom and close enough that I can feel his breath against the nape of my neck. I jerk forward, desperately scanning for any possible reprieve.

There has to be another way out. There has to be.

A collection of candles arranged on a nearby table catches my attention—not for romance, but because the wax has clearly been used for purposes other than illumination. Dark stains mark the stone floor beneath them, and I don’t want to think about what caused those marks.

The walls themselves are lined with hooks and rings, all at different heights, all positioned with clear intent. Even the beautiful Persian rugs scattered across the floor can’t disguise the utilitarian nature of this space.

This is a playground designed for complete control, void of even a whisper of mercy.

My heart hammers against my ribs as I spin in a slow circle, searching every shadow and corner for anything that might offer an escape. The single doorway we entered through seems to be the only way in or out, and Xavier’s massive frame blocks it completely.

“Nowhere to run now, angel.”

Xavier’s voice drips with dark satisfaction as he steps further into the room, and I hear the heavy click of a lock engaging behind him. My pulse spikes as I realize he’s just sealed us in together.

“You look fucking incredible in that red silk,” he continues, his words rough with hunger. “I’ve been watching you run through my maze, watching that sweet ass bounce with every step. Do you have any idea how hard you’ve made me?”

I back away until my shoulders hit the cold stone wall, trapped between the unforgiving surface and Xavier’s advance. The golden candlelight flickers across his features, making the sharp angles of his face appear demonic.

“All that defiance, all that fire—it’s going to feel so good when I break you open.” His eyes rake over my body shamelessly. “When I bury myself so deep inside you that you forget your own fucking name.”

My breath comes in sharp gasps as he moves closer, each step deliberate and calculated. The leather of his riding pants creaks with his movement, and I can see the obvious bulge straining against the material.

“Xavier, you can’t?—”

“Can’t what?” He laughs. “Can’t fuck you until you scream my name? Can’t make you come so hard you forget why you ever thought you could challenge me?” His hand braces against the wall beside my head, caging me in. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m going to do all of that and so much more.”

The heat radiating from him makes the air between us feel electric. I can smell his cologne mixed with leather .

“You signed that NDA and contract knowing exactly what it meant,” he growls, his free hand trailing down to grip my hip possessively. “You wanted this. You wanted to be caught. And now you’re mine to do with as I please.”

His thumb traces the edge of the red silk barely covering my thigh, and I hate my physiological response.

“I’m going to take my time with you,” Xavier promises. “Going to explore every inch of this perfect body until you’re begging me for more.”

Heat pools low in my belly as Xavier’s thumb traces that silk edge, and I can feel my nipples hardening against the flimsy fabric. The way he’s looking at me—like I’m precious and he wants to devour me—sends liquid fire straight through my veins.

This is just adrenaline. Fear response. Fight-or-flight chemicals flooding my system and confusing my psyche, my most basic survival instincts.

That’s what I tell myself as my breath hitches when his fingers dig possessively into my hip.

But my body knows better, and Xavier can read it like an open book. His nostrils flare slightly, and that smile spreads across his face.

“You smell fucking incredible when you’re aroused,” he murmurs, leaning closer until his lips brush my ear. “Like honey and rebellion and everything I want.”

The low rumble of his voice vibrates through his chest and into mine, and I snap.

My knee jerks up hard, aiming for his groin with every ounce of strength I possess. He catches my thigh effortlessly, his fingers wrapping around the soft flesh with bruising intensity as he pins my leg against his hip.

“Fuck.” The word tears from his throat in a rough groan that sounds more like pleasure than pain. His grip tightens, and I feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against my trapped leg. “Yes, baby. Fight me.”

I twist violently in his hold, using my free leg to kick at his shin while my hands claw at his chest. My nails rake across the fabric of his t-shirt, searching for any vulnerable spot.

Xavier’s breathing becomes ragged as he wrestles with my struggles, his eyes blazing. When I manage to catch his forearm with my teeth, he makes a sound that’s half curse, half prayer.

"There it is, angel." His voice is wrecked now, raw with desire. "Show me all that fire. Show me how badly you want to be dominated."

I buck against his hold, arching as I try to break free. The movement presses me tighter against him, forcing me to feel every hard inch of his cock through the thin silk and leather separating us.

“Let me go!” I snarl.

“Never.” His free hand tangles in my hair, angling my face up to meet his burning gaze.

The red mask covering the lower half of Xavier’s face transforms him into a nightmare—elegant and terrifying in equal measure. The crimson leather follows the sharp line of his jaw, leaving his eyes completely exposed. Those eyes burn with an intensity that makes my skin crawl .

But it’s when he speaks that true horror settles into my bones.

“You know what the beautiful thing about fear is, angel?” His voice carries a sing-song quality now, almost musical in its cadence, like he’s reciting poetry about the weather instead of my impending doom.

“It makes the blood pump faster, makes every nerve ending sing with electricity, makes every touch feel like lightning striking bare skin.”

The casual, almost cheerful tone coming from behind that blood-red mask makes my stomach turn. He sounds genuinely delighted.

“I can feel your pulse hammering against my fingers,” he continues in that same lilting voice. “Seventy-eight beats per minute and climbing. Your pupils are dilated, and your breathing is labored. Classic sympathetic nervous system activation.”

His clinical observation delivered in such a sickeningly sweet tone makes me want to vomit.

“The anticipation is almost better than the act itself, don’t you think?

” He tilts his head, and the red mask glints in the candlelight, making it gleam like fresh blood.

“That moment when you realize there’s nowhere left to run, nowhere left to hide, and your body starts preparing itself for what’s coming. ”

Those exposed eyes crinkle at the corners, suggesting he’s smiling behind the mask—a wide grin I can’t see but can sense in his words.

“Your investigative mind must be fascinating right now,” he muses, his grip shifting to press my wrist against the stone wall.

“Cataloguing every detail, trying to find weaknesses, plotting escape routes that don’t exist. But here’s the thing about brilliant minds—they’re so much more fun to break. ”

The musical quality never leaves his voice, making every word sound like a lullaby sung by the devil himself.

“Tell me, what story will you write about tonight? Oh, wait—you can’t write anything at all, can you? That pesky little NDA you signed.”

Unadulterated rage floods my system, washing away every trace of the confusing arousal that had been clouding my judgment.

I wrench my knee up again, this time angling differently to avoid his grip on my thigh. My shin connects solidly with his groin, and Xavier doubles over with a sharp grunt of pain.

His hold loosens for just a second—but a second is all I need.

I tear away from the wall and sprint toward the door, my bare feet slapping against the cold stone. The red silk clings to my sweating skin as I pump my arms, every muscle screaming with desperate energy.

Almost there. Almost?—

Agony explodes across my scalp as Xavier’s fingers twist brutally in my hair, jerking me backward so violently that my feet leave the ground. I crash against his chest, my back pressed to his front, and immediately freeze in shock.

He’s as hard as a rock—the thick length of his erection presses against my lower back through his leather pants, and I can feel how the fabric strains to contain him. He’s breathing hard against my ear, but not from pain—from arousal.

“Fuck yes,” he groans, his voice rougher than gravel. “Run from me again. Fight me harder.”

My kick to his balls didn’t diminish his desire—it inflamed it.

Before I can process this horrifying realization, Xavier spins me around and shoves me toward the padded bench. My knees hit the edge, and I tumble forward onto the worn leather surface.

“No, no, no?—”