Total pages in book: 15
Estimated words: 13121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 66(@200wpm)___ 52(@250wpm)___ 44(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 13121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 66(@200wpm)___ 52(@250wpm)___ 44(@300wpm)
But then I heard it.
Him.
It was the rhythmic, steady, and deliberate crunch of footsteps behind me that had my heart racing and beads of sweat forming on my temple and between my breasts.
I heard him moving closer, his hooved footsteps creeping closer.
Krampus was coming, and he was coming for me.
My breath was sharp and shallow as it caught in my throat. I found a sliver of courage and glanced over my shoulder, my heart hammering in my chest. The area was too dark with no lights in the alley.
I swallowed hard and forced myself to face forward. The snow crunched faster beneath my shoes as I quickened my pace. God… the thrill and arousal of fear coursed through me. It was sharp and electrifying.
You are not a victim. You are strong. I grabbed onto that strength and pushed my fear down as I spun around. I channeled that fierce personality I knew I had and said in a sharp voice, “Who are you, and what do you want?”
The world tilted beneath my feet, and I reached out and braced a hand on the cold stone of the building beside me. Because standing far too close for comfort was the beast who’d been stalking me.
The air was so cold it felt suffocating as we stared at each other.
This weird and twisted sensation of wanting the forbidden claimed me, tightening around every erogenous zone of my body.
He was still in his Krampus costume, towering over me at nearly seven feet in height. He took a step closer, his hoof boots clacking against the stone ground. His tattered robes shifted with his movements and the breeze that whipped through the narrow alley.
His horned mask glinted in the faint light, the eyeholes still glowing red and ominously. The fur and chains and claws made him look like the devil himself.
He didn’t respond to my clear-voiced questions, and I stood my ground though my knees threatened to give out. “What do you want?” I demanded again, but I couldn’t stop the tremble from my voice this time.
For long seconds, we were in a standoff, and then the motherfucker charged forward.
I cried out, startled and terrified by his sudden movements. My back hit the cold stone wall before I could turn and run, and the breath was knocked from my lungs. He was right in front of me, slamming his hands on either side of me, his deadly claws digging into the stone and scrapping close to my ears.
He crowded me, pinning me in place with a growl that rumbled deep from within his chest and sounded even more distorted from behind his mask.
God, this beast—this man—was raw and primal, and I grew wetter, my pussy clenching and my nipples tingling.
I should have been terrified. I should have screamed long and loud for help.
But a shiver of anticipation and excited arousal rolled through me. God, the heat that screamed through me said that my mind and body were at war with each other. The sound of him inhaling had me closing my eyes, and a moan was pulled from my throat.
He slid his hands down, his claws scraping along the wall. He gripped my wrists and pulled my arms up, pinning them on either side of my head. My body was so rigid, my eyes closed tight and my teeth clenched, that if anyone looked at me, they’d think I was scared shitless.
I wasn't, though. Inside, I was the complete opposite.
Because although his movements and everything about him dripped malevolence, his hold was firm but not painful. He looked as if he’d smell of sulfur and death, but the scent of aged leather, smoke from the torches he’d held, and something wild and potent enveloped me.
It was dark and exquisitely intoxicating.
“Who are you?” I whispered, barely able to force the words past my lips.
He didn’t speak, but God I wanted him to. I wanted to hear his voice. He leaned in close, the mask muffling his breathing and making it seem more ragged as he hovered by the side of my neck. His proximity and his intense body heat felt undeniably human, even if he looked like a demon from hell.
“What do you want?” I whispered.
And although he didn’t speak, he didn’t need to. Krampus had this natural dominance in his mere presence alone, and that made it perfectly clear what he wanted from me. The truth was… I didn’t want to fight whatever was happening.
I didn’t even resist him as those claws trailed down my arm, scratching me but not breaking skin… until they did. I gasped as the pain sliced through me, and I looked at where he cut me. It was shallow but it bled, my blood dark and warm as it slid down my inner forearm.
He reached up and pushed his mask up just slightly, so his lips were visible. But his face was painted in deep grays and shades of browns to flow with his costume.