Page 38 of Terror Tuesday

The smell of blood fades with the rain, but not hers. Earthy, electric... It clings to me. Like her body’s rewriting the rulesof nature to create my personal aphrodisiac. I inhale it, and it hits like a drug, spiking through every nerve ending, dialing the obsession to eleven.

Run, Chrysalis.

Slow and heavy are my footsteps. Letting her hear me now. A branch breaks beneath my foot. She scrambles forward on all fours before shoving herself to her feet and bolting again.

God, she’s perfect.

I could end this. Could tackle her into the mire and take everything between her legs. Make her fight me... But I won’t. Not yet.

Because this?

This is foreplay.

Limbs trembling, pace uneven...she’s losing steam.

Eventually, she crashes into a low branch and yelps. That’s when I make my move.

The distance narrows in one breath, my boots churning through the soaked leaves. She hears me just before I reach her.

Eyes wide, she turns, her lips parted in fear.

I crash into her like a wave, catching her waist and spinning her back into the trunk of a tree. The impact steals her air, and I use the moment to slam one palm beside her head, the other wrapping around her throat—firm, not crushing. Just enough to remind her I’m here. That she’s safe from everything… Everything exceptme.

A raw, guttural scream rips from somewhere deep in her lungs.

But I cut it off with a simple squeeze of my hand.

“You’re safe now,” I growl softly, greeting her hips with the rigid urgency between mine, finally allowing her tofeelevery aching inch of me. “You’re exactly where you need to be.”

“With you?” she gasps, panicked. Shaking her head rapidly, she says, “I’ve seen what you’re capable of. I’m not interested in being one of your victims.”

My teeth clamp down. “You think I’d cut you like that? No,Chrysalis.” With my free hand, I dig into my pocket, produce my penknife, and flick it open. Rain glimmers off the steel as her eyes grow wide. I hold it high for her to see. “Not unless you want me to.”

Frantically, she digs into my forearm, nails slipping against the soaked fabric. Her knees buckle, but I hold her upright, pinned between bark and body. Thumb trailing down the column of her neck, I relish her pulse pounding underneath it.

“No. No, thank you.”

Her fear makes me harder, especially as her body squirms and shifts in the right spot against my zipper. Diving into her neck, I press my lips against the throb to feel it on my tongue.

“But you wantthis,” I say, voice deep against her ear. My cock pulses inside my jeans, the only relief coming from frotting it against her, stabbing the length into her soft curves. Every instinct I have urges me to set myself free.

She thrashes, but writhes in response. “No…”

I press my body closer, grinding into her, panting out clouds of heated breaths as I seep from the tip of my cock. Urgently needing to be in her pussy. It’s seeking home, one onlyshecan provide.

“Your body’s a fucking liar. You’re soaked. And not just from the rain… You’ve wanted this.” Then, I repeat the words I’ve read in her diary. “To be chased. To be hunted. To becaught.”

Her breath hitches, but when I slide a thigh between her legs, her hips involuntarily shift on it like she’s ready to ride. Blinking off rain, she whispers, “You’re wrong.”

My thumb presses lightly against her pulse, reveling in its frenzied rhythm. “Then why are you gripping my arm like you’re terrified I’ll let go?”

Her breaths come in gasps—half sob, half denial.

“You’ve been screaming for someone to rescue you,” I murmur as now both of us move together, rhythmically, deliberately, grinding harder against each other as if our lower bodies need to mesh. “Someone who doesn’t believe your perfect lies. Someone strong enough to break you apart and gentle enough to put you back together.”

She shudders beneath me, a tear escaping down her cheek that melts with the weather. “Please…don’t—” But she’s nodding lazily, her lies giving way to the truth.

I drag the tip of my blade lightly down her collarbone, feather-soft—just enough to tease the edge of danger. Her entire body goes rigid, the whites of her eyes visible around the irises, breath held high in her chest.