Page 9 of Snatched By the Scarecrow

I open my mouth to speak, to ask him if he’s real, but his finger presses against my lips, effectively stopping the words from coming out.

The weight of his digit isn’t at all like I expect. The glove he wears is coarse, but to my surprise it feels almost human. The weight and heat of it doesn’t make sense.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

My heart beats erratically inside my chest. Silas bends forward, the inhuman sounds of his straw body reminding me that despite the feeling of his finger, there’s no way he’s human.

I don’t blink as the caverns where his eyes should be gets closer to my face, and the scent of him strengthens. I want to say I don’t like it, but I do. It reminds me of cozy fall bonfires. Nights spent at campgrounds roasting marshmallows, the evening calm and beautiful, the weather crisp.

He doesn’t move his finger from my mouth, and a split second later he inhales. A groan spills from his now parted lips, and everything inside me screams that this isn’t right. He shouldn’t be making noises, and he most definitely should not be able to open his mouth.

“Finally.” His deep resonate voice hits me square in the chest, like the beauty of a perfect harmony. “After all this time, I found you.”

Goosebumps scatter over my arms and my nipples pebble. It’s not the reaction a normal person should be having, but deep in the back of my mind I remember that this is my fantasy. All of this is happening in my head.

His finger moves from my lips, and his hand cups my cheek. Just like his finger, his palm is warm, and despite the rough sensation of the burlap and straw he’s made from, it feels solid.

“You did,” I answer, as if I’ve been compelled to say it, my voice soft and so unlike my normal confident cadence.

Silas’s black thread-lined mouth forms into a broad smile that may be eerie to some, but to me, it’s hauntingly beautiful. He trails his hand down my cheek and over to the piercings on the shell of my ear.

His hollow eyes never leave my face, and warmth coils low in my belly. The lower and lower his hand drops, the more the heat inside me stokes to life, turning into a burning flame. Wet arousal pools between my thighs, and my clit aches to be touched.

Silas stops his hand on my waist and inhales again, groaning deeper, almost pained. He drops his face to the side of my neck, those threaded lips brushing over my skin until I feel the wetness of a rough tongue against my thundering pulse.

My hands fly up to grip his arms. I expect him to be pliable, but much like his hand, his arms are warm and full. I can still feel the straw as if it’s woven into the very muscle and sinew of his body beneath his clothes.

His mouth attaches to my neck and he sucks, the sensation unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. I tug him closer and let out a gasp when our hips meet. My overheated core bumps against a prominent bulge beneath his pants. It’s long, and there’s no doubt in my mind that I feel it thicken.

I grind myself against him before I can think better of it, loving the way it feels against my needy core.

His hand on my waist grips me tighter, and his hot mouth detaches from my neck. I whimper at the loss, and his raspy chuckle tickles my skin.

“Such a willing sacrifice, aren’t you?”

His face meets mine and without thinking I nod.

Silas’s smile flattens and his hand cups my cheek again. “Say it, tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, Silas.”

He pauses, body going rigid before he relaxes again. The hand that was on my hip cups my pussy, the pressure of his palm and the feel of the glove with straw beneath pressing against my clit in the most perfect way.

“And this?” He growls. “Is this sweet pussy mine for the reaping?”

“Yes.” I answer easily. Like I’ve been waiting to say it for centuries.

That terrifying, yet beautiful smile returns, and I try to arch into him for more, needing to come. Needing it to be by his hand, or whatever appendage he has hiding under his weathered clothes.

Silas hums in satisfaction and does the last thing I expect. He leans forward until he can place a delicate kiss upon the crown of my head. The hand cupping my pussy eases its pressure. I pout from the loss, a keening whine slipping from me.

That dark laugh thrums around in the air as a crow soars overhead. The bird caws sharply, and my scarecrow shifts to look me straight in the eye.

“Be patient, my eager one.” He drops his mouth to my ear. “For tomorrow night, we shall be together.” He inhales me again before he says his final parting words. “And you will take everything I give you.”

Chapter 4

Thud!