Page 13 of His to Fear
He’s trapping me against a tree, my back hitting the bark with a low, soft thud.
His leather-gloved hand comes up to my chin, lifting it. He strokes my bottom lip gently, pulling it down and watching it bounce with a certain desire emanating through him.
He lifts the axe again, and in the moonlight I can see it dripping with some liquid. It’s gooey and has a real tinge of metal.
This haunted fair better have put down a huge budget on this…
I sense the threat coming from him, and even if this is all an act, there’s still the fact that I’m all alone with him.
“My friends will be here any second.” I lift my hand in defiance. “I wouldn’t be this close if I were you.”
A dark chuckle rumbles through his chest, and he’s so close I can feel it through my own body. Pressing his body into me, he’s forcing me in place against the trunk, not allowing me the leeway to get away.
“I don’t think your friends will find you,” he muses. “Do you want to know why?”
“Fuck you.”
He presses his body closer to me, holding me in place, and makes a tsking sound. “Because these woods are mine tonight.Iä m the master, and these trees are screaming my name.”
The axe rests casually over his shoulder, as if it’s only another accessory, the blade pointed at me. He shifts it slightly, coming even closer to me.
“This isn’t fun. Go bother someone else.”
His lips tilt into a dangerous smirk, one that ignites something uncontrollable that I cannot ignore.
He bends down, his mouth drawing closer to my ear. It sends shivers dancing through me. an involuntary shudder
“Fun? You think this isfun? Åh,mindödsängel.”
The axe comes closer to my head, and my heart picks up its pace, eyes flitting nervously to the very real weapon.
“Just leave me alone,” I mutter.
An audible sigh escapes him, acting as if I’m the one being unreasonable.
“No, baby. I’ve been waiting for you.”
A frown mars my eyebrows as I take him in, his boots sinking into the forest floor with a crunch as he keeps staring at me. Hesitation thrums through every nerve in me, wishing I could somehow get out of this impossible situation.
“It’s not funny anymore.” Even as I utter the words, I hear how small and whiny my voice sounds. Breathy, with a hint of an underlying tension.
I’m no longer in the cocoon of the enchantment the circus threw me into, a spell making me spiral right into this man’s violent orb. Yet, there’s still something so enthralling about him, drawing me in even more. His scent, aura, the way he traps me against the tree against my will…
Fuck.
I cross my arms over my chest, as if that would stop the thundering beat of my heart or the slicing bugs fluttering around in my stomach.
“You think I’m some scare-actor?” He breathes, a mockingtone to his voice, while his features soften into tenderness, his body relaxing.
Yes?
“You were the one being cryptic about it all when I asked,” I scoff.
His body presses against mine, heat radiating through the thin space between us, making my skin flush. The look he gives me is fierce and intense, lingering with an obsession, like it’s rooted in something far too deep and twisted for me to ever comprehend. I’m pinned against the rough bark of the tree, the axe perched on his shoulder, its blade hiding in the shadow.
I’m scared it will accidentally, or intentionally, slice me open if he moves even a fraction.
His voice drips into something inherently dangerous yet intimate. “No, little fangs. I’m the one they warned you about. Should have listened to ole’ man Johnsson, bless him.” He laughs at his own words, as though sharing a joke, expecting me to laugh with him.
