Page 18 of Forbidden Harvest

“See? Nothing to be afraid of,” he murmurs.

Nodding shakily, I force a tight smile. “Y-yeah, it’s not so bad.”

But as we round the next corner, something makes the hairs on the back of my neck prickle.

I gasp as thick, acrid smoke billows around us, stinging my eyes and burning my lungs. Hacking coughs tear through our little group as we instinctively huddle together, desperately trying to find our bearings in the haze.

“Lisa? Kevin?” I choke out, reaching for them in the darkness. My fingers brush against some fabric, and I cling to it like a lifeline.

Just as my eyes water, a strong arm snakes around my waist, yanking me backward with brutal force. A strangled scream tears from my throat as I’m wrenched away from my friends, their muffled shouts fading.

This is too real, too intense—surely this isn’t part of the haunted house experience? My heart thunders in my ears as I thrash against my unseen captor, terror flooding my veins.

Before I can summon another cry for help, something sharp jabs into the side of my neck. White-hot pain lances through me, and I let out a garbled whimper, my struggles growing weaker by the second.

A strange tingling sensation spreads from the injection site, rapidly numbing my senses. The smoke-filled room tilts and blurs.

Darkness creeps in at the edges of my vision as my eyelids grow impossibly heavy. I try to fight it, desperate to stay awake, to understand what’s happening. But the pull is too strong, too insistent.

A single thought graces my mind as unconsciousness claims me—this was no ordinary haunted house prank.

13

JARED

Idid it. Aria is finally here. This gift to myself is long overdue. She’s tied to the bed entirely naked as I removed that sexy pirate outfit she wore. Now, she looks so innocent and vulnerable. My heart pounds as I gaze at her.

I should feel guilty, but all I feel is a burning desire. She’s so beautiful.

My hands tremble as I reach out, caressing her cheek, then trailing down her neck. Her skin is like silk under my fingers, and I yearn to explore every inch. I step closer, my breath quickening. Aria stirs, and for a moment, panic washes over me. But she’s still out of it, and I can continue my exploration. The fire in my loins makes it hard to think straight. Torturing myself for years, watching her blossom, has driven me to the edge.

The need to mark her as mine is overwhelming. I want to brand her and make her understand that she’s mine forever. There’s no going back now.

I inhale her scent—a mix of chamomile and lavender—a drug to me.

“You’re mine now,” I whisper, my voice hoarse and strange even to my ears. “And I’m going to keep you safe. I promise.”

I yank on the rope to test the strength, and she stirs. Her eyes flutter open. My princess is waking up. I step back, admiring my handiwork. The rope bites into her flesh, a stark contrast to her pale skin.

Aria blinks before focusing on the restraints. Her gaze locks with mine, and we’re momentarily lost in each other. She won’t recognize my eyes with the red contacts in.

After a few moments, her mouth drops open, emitting a primal scream. My cock painfully hardens further against the zipper of my pants, desperate to break free. I clench my fists, savoring the sound.

My princess is fully aware of her captivity now, and her fear makes me so fucking hard. I hold the power. I’m in control, and that is so intoxicating.

I watch as she struggles against her bonds, straining. The rope bites into her skin, and I imagine the mark it will leave.

“Please...” Her voice trembles. “Who are you? What do you want?”

I relish her fear and the power it gives me. But then, her bottom lip quivers, and something twists inside me. I don’t want her to be too scared. This is as much for her as it is for me. She thinks no one sees her—the true her. But I’ve always seen her.

Unable to resist, I step closer. “Shh, you’re safe with me. I’d never hurt you.” My distorted voice is gentle.

Her confused and conflicted eyes search mine, but her body responds. I shouldn’t be enjoying this, but the hunger is too overwhelming.

I reach out, my fingers itching to touch her again. I trace her jaw, my thumb brushing her full lower lip. “You’re mine. And I’m going to take care of you.”

She yields to my touch, her fear momentarily subdued by her natural response. It fuels my determination to make her see we belong together.

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