Page 31 of His Haunted Desire
Iseriouslyshouldn’t have peered into the en-suite.
“Sure,” he says, his smirk never leaving his face. He knows the effect he’s having on me.
He places his hand on the small of my back again, as if sending a message to everyone else.She is mine…
As we walk through the party, it strikes me that I have nothing on my mentalto-dolist. Normally, there’s a task waiting for me, whether at college or the shop or with Grandma. Now, all I have to do is let Raiden lead me down a windowed corridor and into a beautiful garden.
Torches flicker, lighting our way. I gasp when I see it.
In the corner, in front of a roaring fire, a man and two women rub against each other, tearing at each other’s clothes, the women paying as much attention to each other as the man. It’s unbridled lust like I’ve never seen in real life. It’s like a porn film.
“Has something offended your delicate sensibilities?” Raiden croons.
“Ha ha,” I mutter sarcastically.
He points to the corner of the garden. Trellises provide the framework for crisscrossing vines and flowers, the nature turned orange by the torchlight. A tall, lean man wearing a purple suit and a full-faced mask stands with a top hat in his hand.
“He’s the Dare Master,” Raiden says. “He must’ve dared those three to go at it.”
“Go at it,” I repeat dryly. “How romantic.”
“Let’s see what he has in store for me.”
We proceed to the corner.
“I humble myself before you, Dare Master,” Raiden says ceremonially. “What do you dream of for me?”
The Dare Master titters and reaches into his hat, then takes out a note and unfolds it, reads it, and hands it to Raiden.
Raiden’s smile vanishes when he reads it. He scrunches it up and tosses it to the ground.
“Give me a dare like that again,” he growls, “and I’ll break your fucking nose.”
Raiden storms away, leaving me to stare after him open-mouthed.
“Uh, sorry,” I say awkwardly, hurrying after Raiden.
CHAPTER 12
RAIDEN
Ilean against the wall, trying to get myself under control.
First, that rubbish with Julian, then that goddamn dare.
Aurora walks into the hallway, her dress highlighting her mouthwatering cleavage and ample hips. It’s a shining silver color, matching the details on her mask.
“What the hell was that?” she asks. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” I grunt.
“You’ve been in a bad mood ever since that guy came to our room.”
“That guy is my cousin, and he stabbed me in the goddamn back,” I growl, oversharing, not meaning to but somehow unable to stop.
“Oh,” she mutters. “I’m sorry to hear that.” She raises her hand, holds it still, as if debating whether touching me is appropriate.
“No one’s watching,” I grunt.
