Page 42 of Stream & Scream

I crouch behind a thick oak, eyes fixed on the stutter of her cam. She bursts into view, shin bloodied, hair wild and damp, chest heaving. She looks wrecked already. It makes my cock ache.

One step forward.

She jolts like she’s being shocked. Spins, eyes wide, lips parted, panic plastered across her face.

“Go on then,” I rasp, voice thick with hunger. “Run for me, little clickbait.”

She bolts. The forest detonates around her.

She stumbles, gasps, recovers, runs harder. Her cam blinks red, bouncing wildly, broadcasting every desperate stagger. I tear after her, boots eating ground, breath steady, cock pressing hard against my zipper. I could take her down right now. End it. Grind her into the dirt while the world watches.

But not yet.

Because the chase is everything. The chase is the drug. The chase is what keeps me hard.

“Faster,” I growl, voice booming low. “Earn it, clickbait. Earn every fucking breath.”

She falters. A cry slips out. My laugh follows, low and merciless.

“You hear that?” I snarl, close enough now that my words chase her spine. “They’re watching you bleed, sweat and cry for me. You’re their little clickbait, but I’m the bastard who gets to play with you.”

I lunge, fingers closing around the back of her shirt. She screams as I yank her back, her body slamming against mine. My other hand clamps her hip, dragging her against the hard line of my cock through my pants. She feels it. I know she does. Her breath hitches sharp and panicked.

I bend my mouth to her ear, my voice a growl against her skin. “That’s what you do to me. Running, panting, shaking, you make me want to tear you apart right here.”

She thrashes, kicks, claws. Perfect. Delicious.

I let her go, then shove her forward so she stumbles, barely catching herself on a tree before she takes off again.

My laugh echoes through the forest.

“Don’t stop now, clickbait,” I growl. “Push those legs ‘til they give out. The second you hit the ground, I’ll be there to remind you who owns your breath.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Jaxen

Saturday night.

They always think the rocks will save them.

That if they just keep climbing a magical exit will appear, like the world owes them a way out.

Idiots.

The only thing waiting at the top is me.

Night vision glows soft green across the world, and there, a blur of a sprint, is her.

Liv.

My little clickbait.

She’s fast when she wants to be. Legs kicking up leaves and breath punching from her lungs.

I could've taken her already. Had my cock inside her while she cried and begged and bit down moans. But that would've been mercy. And I don’t deal in mercy.

I deal in hunger.