Page 6

She didn’t know I was here. She didn’t know me as anything more than a regular who caught her on an icy sidewalk. But her body knew. Her Omega knew. Even dreaming, she was reaching for me. Hearing my name from her lips twice in one night was my undoing.

I should’ve left.

I didn’t.

I stood. Through the eyeholes, I stared down at her. Her face stayed soft and trusting beneath that hollow, screaming mask.

My hands were shaking when I unzipped my pants.

The dead fucker had taken her while she couldn’t say no. While she was drugged and terrified and alone. I knew the difference.

This wasn’t taking. Her Omega was asking.

And my Alpha was answering.

I was already so close it hurt. Months of watching. Minutes of her scent. My whispered name on her lips. Pre-cum beaded at my tip. I was a man possessed. I dragged it across her lips, coating them, and my knot began to swell. The urge to take her nearly won.

I can’t.

Instead, I dragged my length over her mouth again, painting her lips. Then she did the impossible. She wrapped them around the tip and I seized. Her tongue flicked against my slit and I jerked. Unable to stop myself, I bobbed against her lips and she suckled my tip.

That’s all it took.

I grabbed my knot and it swelled faster than it had in my whole damn life. I pulled free, pumped my cock, and spilled across her face. My breath came ragged, and I bit back a groan.

She sighed, and her tongue slipped out to lick her lips clean.

My knees almost gave out.

Mine. Every part of her was mine. She already knew it.

I massaged my cum into her cheek, her throat, her lips until her skin absorbed it.

She stirred.

Her brows drew together, and her lashes fluttered against her cheeks, and I froze with my hand still on the mattress beside her head.

If she opened her eyes, the first thing she’d see was Ghostface leaning over her bed.

I didn’t breathe. Didn’t move. My heart was hammering so hard I was sure she’d hear it.

Her lashes fluttered again.

Then her face crumpled.

Not waking. Something worse. Her breathing went shallow and fast, and her fingers curled into the blanket, gripping it like a lifeline. A small sound escaped her, high and frightened.

“Stop,” she whimpered. “Please. Stop.”

Ice flooded my veins.

I knew that fear. I’d seen it once before. The morning she came out of his house, cheeks wet, eyes on the sidewalk.

She was back there. In his house. Under him.

Before I could decide what to do, she turned her face toward me, seeking, and her lips found my tip and closed around it.

I went still.