Page 59 of Awakening the Beast
“Run, Slut. Run fast.” He bites out darkly, taking another step in my direction, his eyes burning with something sinister.
I hesitate, confusion and fear battling within me as I take a few steps backward.
“I said fucking run!” he barks harshly, causing my body to jerk.“Tick. Fucking. Tock!”
The gun swings toward my feet, and he fires several shots, the deafening sound cracking through the night. The bullets strike the muddy ground near me, forcing me to take a desperate leap as I whirl around and scream, driven by panic.
I sprint into the darkness, the towering cornfields blurring past me in a dizzying rush until I spot an opening to my left. I veer toward it, skidding across the rough ground as I scramble for get away. I run into what appears to be a corn maze, and the further I get into it, the darker it becomes.
I continue running deeper, gasping for air, my heart pounding against my rib cage, and my legs aching from the effort.
When I come to a sudden stop, I stoop over, resting my palms on my thighs as I battle for breath. As soon as I’m ready, I stand straight and glance over my shoulder, instantly spotting his intimidating silhouette standing still and menacing in the distance.
Bastard.
I completely face him and when my vision begins to adjust to the darkness, I notice right away that he has a black balaclava on, which causes me to grin.
As we stare at each other from afar, I realize that this is more of a thrill for me than straight fear. I’m beginning to realize what’s going on between us. He loves to chase, and I love to be caught. This is where our trust is placed; this is where it was built, and it has always been obvious; I just didn’t grasp it fully until now.
This man is acutely aware of what he is doing at all times.
In all the finest ways, Arlo Hayes is a wicked, sadistic genius, an enigmatic manipulator who will expose his trustworthiness by playing these cruel games that should have the opposite effect on me; they should make me fear him and lose all faith, but they don’t; they make me trust him more than anybody I have ever met in my entire life. Because deep down, I know he would never intentionally hurt me; he loves me in the most beautifully unhinged way.
I contemplate flipping his game, seeing as he wants to exploit my weaknesses; maybe it’s time I highlight his.
Let’s play.
I reach behind me, sliding the zipper of my dress down, and while keeping my gaze locked on him, I push the sleeves down my arms and shimmy the dress over my hips. I kick the dress aside once it pools at my bare feet, standing there in just my black bra and panties. I bend slightly, taunting him with a crooked finger, daring him to chase me again. His arm moves, and after a moment, I see the glint of a blade catching the moonlight.
My stomach drops, and I murmur, “Oh, fuck.”
He starts running toward me at an alarming speed, and I yelp before darting into the cornfield beside me rather than stickingto the path. I crash through the corn, leaves and stalks whipping against my exposed skin, my hair flying over my shoulders. My bare feet scrape over the rocky, muddy earth, each step feeling like a punishment as I sprint blindly through the dark.
Suddenly, I hear rustling from my far-right side, the sound closing in at breakneck speed. It’s him, and the realization sends a fresh surge of adrenaline through me. I push myself as fast as my tired legs will go, but soon I see him running alongside me, keeping pace despite his distance. He turns his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes behind the mask, and we race side by side until he suddenly lunges. I skid to a stop, digging my heels into the mud and landing hard on my ass.
He flies through the air in front of me, narrowly missing me before crashing into the corn beside me. I scramble to my feet, laughing, and sprint off again, trying to zigzag to make it harder for him to catch me. But as the chase drags on, my legs start to give out, my pace slowing.
Without warning, I’m shoved to the side, hitting the ground with a thud. The corn cuts into my skin, and I groan as I hear Arlo’s heavy breathing beside me. I glance over and see him on his hands and knees, his head lowered as he catches his breath.
When he finally lifts his head, our eyes lock as he crawls toward me with a stern look, grabbing my hips and pulling me roughly towards him with a sharp yank.
“Such a fast little thing,” he says, his words laced with a dangerous edge.
He hovers over me, one hand planted firmly on the mud next to my head, kneeling between my legs. With a swift flick, hereveals his knife, the glint of the blade making my heart skip a beat. I instinctively raise my chin as he presses the sharpened edge to my throat.
“Do you run from me because you’re scared, slut? Or do you run because you know if I catch you, I’ll do whatever the fuck I want to you?” he growls, his words distorted and even more terrifying through the balaclava.
I stare deeply into his black eyes peeking through, “Both but also because I trust you.” I mumble breathlessly, but honestly.
When I say that, his gaze lands on my lips, realizing his plan worked. When his eyes swing to mine, he drags the point of his blade down my chest. I cease breathing when he slips it beneath the bust of my bra and quickly slices through it. I can tell he's losing patience as soon as he tosses his knife to the side, rips his balaclava from his head, and throws it away before swiftly grabbing my throat.
He lowers his face near mine, his nose brushing against my own, our lips barely touching. The connection sends shivers cascading down my spine before he finally captures my lips in a searing kiss.
I respond eagerly, our tongues meeting in a frenzied dance. We make out like two frantic savages who have been starved for each other, his large body pressing down on mine, completely smothering me with his weight and heat. The intensity of our kiss deepens, each movement filled with raw, unrestrained desire.
As he flexes his hips against me, adding pressure to my aching core, I feel his stiff cock in his pants, letting me know howaroused he is at the thought of us fucking after all these months. I secure my legs tightly around his waist, my arm thrown over his shoulders as he slides his around the bottom of my back and draws me into him as he sits back on his knees.
I perch on his thighs, our fierce kiss unbroken, and he rips my sliced bra off my body before hurling it into the greenery. My fingers work frantically to unbutton his shirt, feeling the urgency in our movements as he reaches for his blade. With a swift, practiced motion, he slices through the strings of my panties, tearing them from my body and leaving me completely naked.
