Page 17

I think, just for a moment, I see a flash of his eyes behind the mask.

“Take it off,” I pant, lifting my hand to the mask. “Let me see⁠—”

“No.” He slaps my hands away and angles himself so the base of his cock presses up against my already-sensitive clit, and I cry out, arching my cunt up to him. He’s gonna make me come again, the fucking monster.

“Why… not?” I can barely get the words out, I’m so close to coming.

He growls and drives himself fully inside me, making me scream in pleasure again. My second orgasm quivers on the horizon, making my legs shake.

“You’re a victim,” he rasps, the muscles in his arms corded on either side of my head, reminding me of the strength he purposefully isn’t using against me. “And victims don’t get to see my face.”

To my absolute horror, I come. A terrible earthquake of an orgasm that makes me moan and writhe as this stupid fucking Hunter grunts animalistically through his gas mask. And then I realize that he’s coming too, his hips shuddering violently against mine, his breath loud and raspy in the cold, damp woods.

I shove him off me. He doesn’t fight it, just falls sideways onto the dirt, his cock dragging our shared release across my bare thigh. I scramble away from him, clutching the knife, trying to find my pants. But of course I can’t. It’s the middle of the goddamn night, and all I can see are shadowed trees and the occasional moonlight glimmer of the eyes of his mask.

Now. Now’s my chance to kill him, or at least wound him badly enough that I can get away. Hunters heal fast, but it should buy me enough time to find some kind of vehicle to make my escape.

I don’t move, though. I’ve never felt more like prey in my life: standing here with my pussy out in the chilly October night, the bare trees rattling around us. Even with the knife, I’m prey.

He stands up, moving slowly. Lazily, almost. I get a glimpse of his cock before he tucks it away, and I bite down, the echoes of my two orgasms still fluttering in my cunt. When he moves across the ground, his steps are light, and he barely rustles the leaves. When the wind suddenly gusts up around us, reminding me for a strange moment of the rituals of my childhood, I don’t hear him at all.

He gathers something from the ground. My jeans. He thrusts them toward me, and all I can do is stare at him, because the situation is so fucking absurd. I feel like I’m in college again, like I just fucked some lame frat boy at a party and he’s torn between being a gentleman and getting me out of the room before his frat brothers can see.

“Go on,” the Hunter says, shaking my jeans. “Get dressed.”

“What are you going to do?” I ask, trying to pretend my pussy isn’t exposed to the night air

“What are you going to do?” He tilts his head, and even with the mask, I get the sense he’s looking at the knife I’m still clutching to my chest. “Haven’t swung on me yet.”

I squeeze the handle tighter. “What’s the point?” I ask. “We both know I won’t win unless—” I swallow. “Unless you let me.”

He doesn’t move. My jeans hang from his outstretched hand, and I’m shivering in the cold. I don’t trust him, of course. I’m not sure what just happened, how I’m still alive with his cum dripping down my leg. Thank fuck for IUDs, I guess, but that’s not going to save my life if he decides to end it.

I snatch the jeans away. He doesn’t try anything. Doesn’t grab me or slam me up against one of those big aspen trees nearby. I know I shouldn’t let my guard down, not around a Hunter, but it does feel like something’s shifted.

I tug the jeans back on. My panties are nowhere to be found. Evidence, I think numbly. Unless he has them, balled up in his pocket.

That thought sends another quiver through my pussy.

“Is your mother really a Hunter?” he asks suddenly.

I jerk my gaze over to him. He hasn’t moved, but the moonlight filters through the tree branches and shines on him, making him pale and ghostly in the dark.

“Yes,” I say sharply. “And my sister.”

He steps toward me, and I will myself not to step back, although I clutch the knife a little tighter.

“Prove it,” he says.

I breathe out. Even with my pants back on, I’m still cold. It’s surprising how fast it gets cold up here in the mountains.

“I gave you their names,” I say. “It’s not my fault you don’t know them.”

“Well, it is your problem.” The mask’s glass eyes shine, reflecting the moonlight. “You clearly know something about my kind, but that doesn’t necessarily prove you’re the daughter of one of us.”

Goosebumps prickle over my skin, and I know this is a test. I take a soft step backward, but I know it’s pointless for me to try and run. He’ll catch me, just like he did earlier.

And he might not fuck me this time, either.