Page 79 of Haunting the Hunter

I whip my head around, but he’s not there.

“Stop playing around.” I hear a whisper coming from farther down the hallway. Walking around the corner, I am met with a gory-looking skeleton with flesh hanging off the bones. A shriek is pulled from my throat as I bolt farther down the hall.

“I’m over here…” An ethereal whisper comes from a room at the end of the hall, a dim red light spilling into the hallway.

That’s not creepy at all.

Inching my way forward, I hear noises coming from behind me and turn around. “Found you!” But nothing is there. I turn backaround and come face-to-face with a black mass with bright glowing eyes. My heart stops for a moment.

“I was supposed to find you!” I call out, and have to spin around again, his voice appearing behind me now.

“And you did. C’mon, I want to show you something.”

We step into a room with a massive pentagram drawn messily on the floor. The room glows under red lighting. Cobwebs hang around the ceiling and walls and a round table sits in the center.

“Looks like a seance room,” I comment over the creepy music playing.

“Wanna commune with the dead?” He smirks, wiggling his brows, and I shake my head and laugh.

“I think I have my hands full with you,” I say with a roll of my eyes.

“Are you suggesting I’m too much to handle?” he teases, and I scoff.

“Please. I can handle you.”

He turns suddenly and presses me against the wall, arms on either side, caging me in. Eyes glowing bright gold.

“You think so?” he hums, head tilting in that unnatural way of his.

My voice stays casual, but only barely. “What are you doing?”

“I want you,” he says bluntly, catching me completely off guard.

“In what way?” I breathe out softly, my heart pounding so loudly I’m sure he can hear it.

“Everyway.”

Then he kisses me. His lips crash into mine, tongue sliding against my mouth before tracing along my cheek and curling under my jaw. One large hand finds my waist, sliding up to cup my breast as he sucks at my neck. I moan, gasping into the air, my back arching.

I grab his face and drag his mouth back to mine to kiss him back—messy and rough—until he spins me, lifting me onto the table behind us. He steps between my legs, my dress hiked up high on my thighs as he grinds against me. He’s hard. I can feel those ridges.

Another moan escapes me as I reach down, fumbling to unbuckle his belt and popping the button on his jeans. I reach for him—

And freeze.

It doesn’t feel like it’s supposed to.

My eyes fly up to see he’s smiling down at me, teeth flashing.

He grabs the belt, ripping it free.

“Put your hands together, pretty girl,” he demands, his voice a low purring thing.

I raise an eyebrow, but I do it, holding my hands out to him in offering.

He wraps the belt around my wrists and lays me back on the table, lifting my arms above my head. Then he walks around, kneels down, and ties the belt to the leg of the table.

“Does that feel okay?” he asks, voice low and serious, and I blink slowly in surprise.