But as I finally accept the truth of what’s going on, I’m also forced to accept other disturbing truths I’ve learned.
Yesterday’s chase in the woods made my heart beat faster than it ever has before. The same happened today when I was hunted for what felt like hours only to be captured and then viciously fucked against the tree.
The marks and bruises he’s left on me still sting and throb. So does my pussy as these conflicting sensations and emotions war inside me.
The game isn’t over. He’s going to hunt me again like the primal monster he is, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
But the most disturbing part of it all?
…some part of me still wants to play.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Day three comeswith lower temperatures than ever.
I wake to the soughing wind outside the bedroom window and stare up at the ceiling more confused than I’ve ever been in my life. To say I don’t know what to do or how to get myself out of this insane situation would be an understatement.
Today was supposed to be my last full day at Mr. Taylor’s estate. My last chance to finish the winter wonderland decorations he’d asked for, yet I’ve gotten little to nothing done.
I’ve been much more preoccupied by the predatory game I’ve found myself trapped in.
For the rest of the morning, I’m going through the motions. My mind’s still processing the masked Santa Claus who chased me and hunted me down like his prey.
Images of him as he stepped out of the woods play on repeat. His sheer size was intimidating, his chest broad and packed with muscle, his face obscured by the Krampus mask he wore.
I took off in a desperate scramble only to be caught. His body pressed against mine, pinning me to the tree bark as he claimed me.
His hands groped my body—breasts, ass, thighs,pussy. He sniffed me like my scent made him even more feral and left clenched fingerprint marks on my skin.
His fingers circled my thigh and his breath was hot on throat in the shivering cold. I tried hard to resist him, fighting like hell, until I couldn’t stand it anymore.
I gave into him, spine arching my body into his.
Then he fucked me so good, I felt him for hours afterward. I still feel himnow.
The silver bell sits on the coffee table, still nestled in the box’s velvet cushioning. Hours go by with me throwing glances at it as I think about my next moves.
He gave me this silver bell like he gifted the lingerie. Clearly with a purpose and intention in mind. The question is:what?
Daylight is fading away and I’ve stayed safely indoors, afraid I’d wander outside andhe’dbe waiting for me. As the sun sets and the sky deepens to darker shades, I realize I’ve been thinking about this situation all wrong.
My fingers reach for the silver bell, cradling it in my palm, surprised by the weight. It’s heavier than I expected. Cold and smooth and perfectly shaped to be held. Designed to be rung.
I close my hand around it and rise from the sofa, coming to a sudden decision that scares even me.
But I’m in such a damn daze there’s no logic or rationale to be found. I’m operating on instinct alone.
The wind hammers against the windows as I climb the stairs, speeding up ’til I’m taking two at a time. I burst into the bedroom where I’ve been sleeping and dart to the dresser where I’ve stashed the puzzling items I’ve been gifted.
The fear that used to clench at my ribs has morphed into an electric charge that pulses through my whole body. It’s hot and sharp and makes me flushed and breathless.
I grab the lingerie first, holding it up against myself and turning toward the mirror on the wall. Then I start putting it on. I tug off the sweater and leggings I’m wearing and slide into the small scrap of lacy fabric, finding it as sheer and revealing on my body as it was folded inside the gift box.
The bodysuit hugs my figure as if it were designed with me in mind, my breasts looking large and round, and dark brown nipples visible against the red lace.
There’s also another detail I hadn’t noticed before putting it on—the lingerie iscrotchless.
I stare in an almost scandalized shock as my mons pubis shows through the opening, patch of coily pubic hair and all. I haven’t even shaved recently—I didn’t think I had a reason to—but something tells me that’s what’s preferred in this twisted situation.
