Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
“Time to play, friends. The game tonight is a hunt, but we’re doing things my way.” A chorus of laughs slams me back into myself.
What am I doing? I had every intention of making Casimir pay for everything he’s done, but the first chance I get, I’m about to be bouncing on his cock again. I shove off him and yank my robe shut. I’m not even sure when it came undone.
For his part, he smirks and does his pants back up. The only indication that he’s as affected as me is his hard cock pressing against the fabric of his pants . . . against the wet spot of my desire.
Meanwhile, Reaper is still speaking, projecting to every corner of the room without him raising his voice. “Participation is not required, of course, but those who want to play will choose to be predator . . . or prey. Prey flees. Predators pursue. And if a predator catches their prey, they can have their filthy way with them. For this game, we’ll follow the tried-and-true safe words. ‘Red’ means stop. ‘Yellow’ is a pause. Understood?”
Again, people murmur in assent. He has us all captivated. The man truly does know how to work a crowd.
He grins. “And what’s a game without a prize? Whichever predator brings me the best offering will win a favor of their choosing.”
“What do you mean by ‘best,’ Reaper?” someone calls from the back of the room.
His grin widens. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.” He spreads his arms. “Prey will get a five-minute head start. If you want to play foxes to our hounds, come to me now.”
Participation may not be required, but if I stay here, I’m going to end up fucking Casimir again and likely not receive any answers.
Besides, when am I going to get another chance to play a game like this? Fleeing strangers who will hold me down and fuck me if they catch me? Playing kinky games without having to worry about seeing a family member participating?
I’m not missing this for anything.
14
The rules of the game are simple enough: Stay on the grounds. The participating prey have a five-minute head start, and then the predators will come hunting. Reaper will stay here with those who aren’t interested in this flavor of game.
Us prey gather near him at the arched doorway. The ones in heels are taking off their shoes, but I have no shoes to speak of. Or clothes, for that matter. The collar hardly counts, and the robe will be easy enough to get past when I’m caught.
Because it is a “when,” not an “if.” Being caught is the whole goal.
Speaking of . . .
I turn to find Casimir lurking a few feet away. I wish he’d grabbed a shirt before leaving the room; his shirtless chest is highly distracting. I try to drape myself in bravado. “Better hope you find me first.”
“No.”
I jolt. “Excuse me?”
“You want to play games, baby? Play.” His expression gives nothing away. He’s completely drawn into himself, and while there’s a part of me that hates his familiar face on what amounts to a stranger . . . the rest of me is quivering in anticipation.
He can talk all the shit he wants. He’s playing. In fact . . . the longer I look at him, the more I start to see hints of the real him behind the locked exterior.
Because I do know him, at least in part. I’ve lived with this man for over a year, and he might have been playing a role the entire time, but there was too much intimacy that couldn’t be faked. Not entirely. Not when we were living in each other’s pockets.
I cross the short distance to Casimir. “Now who’s lying?”
“What?”
Understanding makes me giddy. Or maybe it’s excitement for what’s coming. Either way, I think I finally get something about him.
I carefully press my hands to his chest and lean in, going up on my tiptoes to speak directly in his ear. “Jealousy gets you off, doesn’t it, baby? You hate seeing me with others, but you love the frenzy that comes afterward.” Just as much as I do.
And tonight, he can’t kill anyone for touching me. No one is going to get hurt while we play this twisted little game.
When I ease back, he isn’t locked down any longer. He grabs my hips and jerks me to him, taking my mouth in a devastating kiss. It’s a clear claim of ownership, but I don’t have a chance to decide how I feel about it before he steps back. “Run, baby. Run fast and run far, because when I catch you, I’m not letting you go again.”
Reaper’s voice cuts through any response I’d be able to come up with. “It’s time. Prey, your five-minute head start begins . . . now.”