My little muse has been such a good sport, though reluctantly and only after I relentlessly pushed her buttons, so I’ll give her the courtesy of a head start.
My gaze remains locked on the back door, where she ran to the back garden—or more like a mini jungle.
The candlelight casts an ominous shadow on the makeshift living area, subconsciously creating my favorite mood.
I bring up my fingers that are still sticky and lick them one by one.
Pussy as a concept has only ever served as a hole to be fucked. Despite the different colors and shapes of cunts I’ve seen in my lifetime, I’ve never relished touching them. Never gotten off on giving oral and have always made it a point that I’d only fuck. If they wanted something else, I was not the guy for it.
And yet, my lips are twitching for a taste of Mia’s sweet little pussy. My blood definitely chose my cock as its preferred organ when I was toying with her just now.
Her little gasps still ring in my ears. Her widened eyes and parted lips will be masturbation material for a few days.
That is, if I don’t trigger another more interesting reaction out of her. By the end of tonight, I will have done the devil’s work in converting another soul to the dark side.
Though Mia has never been innocent and definitely scores high on the darkness scale. Let’s just say I’m unleashing her full potential.
Sliding a hand in my pocket, I follow her trail. The back garden is like an unkempt jungle, with huge old trees, half-dead branches hanging like skeletons, and suspicious mushrooms lying around.
Pretty sure a few aimless ghosts fly overhead, moaning about having a subpar location and few to no visitors on a daily basis.
The moonlight plays hide-and-seek with the clouds and night owls scream in the distance, adding some DJing to the whole creepy vibe.
Four out of five. Would recommend it for satanic rituals.
I slip through the fallen branches and the broken trees that were probably brought down by malicious lightning. Murdered leaves crunch beneath my designer shoes and I don’t make the effort to conceal the sound of my approaching steps.
The best way to smoke out a mouse? Scare her to fucking death.
I want to see the fear mixed with excitement on her delicate face. Just like a moment ago when she squirmed and gasped and soaked my fingers even when she was horrified about the prospect of being choked.
My cock is suggesting we try that again with him inside her cunt this time. I shelve that idea for later as I shove unruly branches out of the way.
To say I’m taking my time would be an understatement. However, I’m plotting, listening, and searching for any signs of my prey.
The lack of light might, at first glance, seem like a handicap, but it’s far from it. Due to my vision’s limited field, my ears prickle at the tiniest noise, and my hunter instinct kicks into full gear.
It's for that reason that I stop in the middle of the jungle of possessed trees and study my surroundings. Too dark.
Too hollow.
Too…creepy, by societal standards.
Even though I could sleep here and welcome demons to try and possess me, Mia wouldn’t.
She slept with the lights on last night, and while I might have suspected that to be a one-off after my impromptu visit, her threatening me with bodily harm if I ever cut the lights off again means she was terrified at the prospect.
Not to mention, she didn’t deny it when we spoke of the candles earlier.
Conclusion: She wouldn’t wander this far, not even to throw me off.
I make a U-turn and run. This time, I silence my steps and control my breathing. I prefer the option of hunter, not the one being hunted, so it’s imperative that she doesn’t figure out my location when I’m not sure where she fucked off to.
I stop at the entrance of the back garden and sniff the air. Sure enough, there’s a hint of her perfume—magnolia.
Two options come to mind. She hid in the corner of the garden and then went inside when I left.
Or two. She ran around like a headless chicken, then came back here.
At any rate, she has the option to retrieve her dress and run away from the property.
Sure enough, I catch a shadow leaning down near the coffee table, probably to pick up the dress. Most of the candles have died down, so it’s hard to make out her profile.
“Is that you?” My low, whimsical whisper echoes through the old walls.
The shadow jolts and Mia abandons the dress and rushes to the stairs.
“Hide, little muse. If I find you, I’ll swallow you whole.” I follow after, taking the stairs two at a time. I can hear the creaking of the wood under her small frame.
Old houses are the best snitches that ever existed on the planet.
My smirk widens the closer my feet lead me to where she’s scurrying around like a literal mouse.
Again, I give her a bit of a head start, igniting her hope that if she runs fast enough and gives in to the adrenaline, she’ll be able to escape me.
Humans, by nature, can’t live without the promise of hope, as false as it might get. It doesn’t matter if the doomed reality of their situation hits them in the face. If they believe there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, they’ll go for it. Over and over again.
There’s nothing worse than hope.
Hope is the medicine of all fools, which is why I make complete use of it in any possible situation.
The wood creaks under my weight as I make my way up. Judging by the noise, Mia is close to the top, at the second and final level that consists of an open bedroom.
There’s a smaller third level that serves as an open roof, but it’s half destroyed and the makeshift stairs that lead to it are partially gone.
Soon, the creaking stops. Only the amateur symphony of the owls filters through. There isn’t even the faint sound of breathing that most humans can’t conceal.
But Mia isn’t just any human. She already sealed her voice and is probably able to suppress so much more.
“I know you’re here.” My voice drifts in the darkness. “Your hiding abilities are feeble at best and your running skills are categorically nonexistent.”
I expect her to jump me and make her favorite threat about snipping my balls—or kicking them—a reality. Although she’s a menace with the same boldness level as her brother, she’s also, like him, easily provoked.
She does have some of Killian’s characteristics as well. Which is probably why, contrary to the possibility I entertained, she doesn’t show herself. She doesn’t even make a peep or an indication of her location.
Smart little minx.
“Do you honestly believe your little attempt at hiding will succeed? I’m Landon King and you’re nothing but prey, waiting to be eaten.”
That should’ve done it, but no.
She’s definitely not falling for my provocations.
This is both bothersome and, surprisingly, more gripping than I’d previously anticipated.
My eyes scan the area for a possible hideout. There’s a closet, but considering her nyctophobia, she wouldn’t go for something that terrifies her the most.
All the other options—under the bed, on the small balcony, and behind the half-torn curtains—come up empty.
My eyes narrow on the closet. She couldn’t have possibly gone in there. Unless she’s in the mood for a panic attack.
Just in case…
I move in that direction, but the moment I open it, a creaking noise comes from behind me. On the opposite side of the room.
Right on the broken stairs.
She can’t possibly—
I run to the stairs and, sure enough, Mia has managed to climb through the available stair skeletons. She hid under them, waiting for me to be far enough away so that she could pull this stunt.
While I don’t catch the whole climbing up process, I do see her lifting the weight of her entire body on a broken step.
Fuck me. Now that’s an impressive athletic body.
She jumps up on the makeshift roof, rising to her full height, and stares down her nose at me and flashes me two middle fingers.
A fucking goddess under the full moon.
The silver light bathes her glistening naked skin and the generous slope of her breasts, highlighting the tips of her soft pink nipples.