Page 21 of Fed By Fear

She screams, a genuine, sexy-as-hell scream, when I cut off her path.

“Where’s the exit?” she demands, still breathy from exertion. “Show me the exit my friends went?—”

“That’s not the door for you, ghost girl.” I’m quick to move into her space, fist wrapped in her sweater. “Your friends don’t spend their days conversing with the dead, now do they? Maybe your door is over here.”

I give her a swift shove straight into Gator’s waiting arms.

She screams as his pig mask dips out from the darkness. “We’ll be your friends. Stay and play for a while.”

“Let go!” She slams her hands against Gator’s biceps, stumbling back when he releases her. “Who are you?”

He prowls forward. “We’re just a couple of nightmares, ghost girl. Now we’ll beyournightmares.”

“Stop fucking with me. Who are you?”

Gator chuckles. He loves a good introduction. “Gator.The name my meals have chosen over the centuries. That’swhat they all scream when they see me coming. That’s what they believe I am when I eat them alive.”

She backpedals farther, oblivious to the pink Xs illuminated behind her.

“Madness,” Madness whispers in her ear. She screams again, whirling. “That’s what they call us. Down, down, down your mind will go. Eyes in the dark. Teeth under the bed. Screaming until you go mad.”

She whips her gaze to me expectantly.

Since we’re introducing ourselves: “Hunt.A name I earned. Because as soon as you think you’re alone, I’ll find you. No matter where you run to or how well you hide. I’m the eyes in the trees. The snap of a twig nearby. The shadow that passes over the moon. There’s no hunt I haven’t finished.”

Her shifting scent is so fucking sweet I could come from one deep inhale.

She sidesteps away from Madness, moving until she has all three of us in her sights. “What do you want from me, freaks?”

“Freakssss.” Gator’s forked tongue slips out beneath his mask as he repeats the word.

Githany’s eyes stay glued to the spot where his tongue just appeared.

I nudge him. “Show her again.”

Gator extends his tongue, letting it slide beneath the mask. He flicks it, moving with a speed that blurs the forked red tip.Show-off.

Githany sucks in a breath. Her scent intensifies. Interesting reaction to a tongue that’s closer to a dragon’s than a man’s.

I step forward, cupping her jaw and gripping hard when she attempts to step back again. “Did you like whenGator tasted you? Maybe I should have a turn. Give me your arm.”

She doesn’t move, just stares into the eyes of my mask. I keep forgetting I have this damn thing on. Two eyes aren’t nearly enough to absorb the splendor of this radiant creature. She’s got something singing in my black soul. When I slip into myself again, I’ll useallmy eyes to watch her bleed, moan, fight…

My touch is intentionally rough. She flinches when I take her palm and slide it beneath my mask. Forgoing my tongue completely, I latch onto the cut with eager lips. My cock engorges so fast there’s an audible sound as my jeans zipper strains against the fabric. Sucking on fresh blood always gets me worked up. Which means I finish every hunt with a raging hard-on. I usually have to save that erection until I get home to Madness and Gator. Sex with victims isn’t my thing. It’s challenging to keep them alive once I’ve started feasting on fear. Fucking my meals after they’re dead isn’t a turn-on for me, either. They have to want it too. By the time I start draining them, sex is the last thing on their minds.

I wonder if our little ghost girl will be different.

Githany’s eyes roll from the sensation.

Gator clutches my shoulder. He’s an anchor, reminding me not to drain her dry. His fingers dig into my upper arm. I take the hint, freeing her hand before I’ve had my fill.

A low whining draws my attention to Madness. His body is shaking with the need to try her.

“Madness.” I hold her palm out to him. He’s instantly kneeling by my side, choosing to tilt his mask up and expose a very human-passing mouth and chin. He laps at her like she’s ice cream on a hot day, swirling his tongue back andforth. Githany writhes, releasing small hiccup-like moans as he licks her.

If she likes our tongues now, she’s going to love them when they’re doing something actually useful. I consider dropping down. Would she fight me if I shoved my tongue in her pussy while the others watched? Would she let all three of us shoulder our way between her thighs? Watching us fight to get our mouths on her, in her. It doesn’t matter if they’re screams of terror or screams of pleasure. I get off on both.

They should go hand in hand, pleasure and fear. The balance is tedious. By the time I get them as scared as I need them to be for a decent feed, their arousal evaporates. A little fear makes people horny. Too much shifts their fear to terror and makes them lose their bodily functions. I try to skirt the line between the two. We all do, and we usually fail. It’s harder than you think to control your urges when you’re a fear demon whose sole purpose is to scare people to death. And then enjoy their deaths.