Page 16 of Hunted Bride

He’s going to do it.

I’m going to let him.

I freeze—only to be startled by a sharp cell phone ring. I know it’s not mine. That was left on the ground where he snatched me off the street, along with my damn coffee mug. I’m pissed at him for that.

“Fucking hell,” my khishnik mutters. He pins my hips by straddling me, takes his shirt off my head and shrugs into it. The mask is already back in place when I open my eyes. Gently, he places my glasses onto my face.

“I’ll be taking these,” he says, freeing my hands and twirling my panties around his fingertip—the same one he just used to make me come. I stare up at him in boneless stupefaction. “Your dress, too.”

He snatches up the plain brown dress I was wearing from where it lays in a crumpled heap on the floor.

“Wait. What am I supposed to wear?”

“Nothing.” He chuckles, buries his nose in my dirty panties, taking a deep sniff. “You should be naked all the time, Little Mouse. So that I can play with you like this any time I like.”

I sputter. The idea is so outrageous, so fucking appealing, that I can’t decide whether to laugh or to start throwing things at him. Before I can sort myself out, he strides out the door and is gone.

Left in nothing but my bra, I run after him and try the knob. Locked. I twist the bolt. It doesn’t budge. “Open, damn, you!” I scream at it, but whatever digital system my family put in place, my khishnik has taken complete control of the mechanism. I’m locked in.

Maybe I can’t get out, or call for help, but I bet my sister has coffee around here somewhere. Once I’ve caffeinated enough to think straight, and found something from her closet that I can borrow to wear, I’m going to find every hidden camera in this house and rip it out of the fucking walls. The ceilings. Wherever I find them, I will tear them out by the root.

And then, I’m going to raid my sister’s stash of movie props.

This mouse is setting her own trap to catch a predator.

9

RION

I stomp out of Alisa Morozov’s house with an aching dick, cursing the phone call that’s summoned me back to my family’s loving embrace.

When I didn’t pick up immediately, Max started texting me. In all caps.

WHERE THE GODDAMN FUCK DID YOU GO?

WE NEED YOU RIGHT NOW.

MY BRIDE IS IN TROUBLE. ALISA’S BEEN KIDNAPPED. I NEED HER BACK. I CAN’T DO IT WITHOUT YOU AND LUKA.

WHERE THE FUCK IS YOUR TWIN, ANYWAY?

As if I know?

Luka doesn’t keep much from me, but when he turns secretive, he might as well be a ghost. Even I can’t track him when he doesn’t want to be found.

I set the Ghostface mask on the passenger seat and peel out of the gates, making sure they lock behind me before I drive carefully down the hillside. The stupidest way to get caught by the authorities is by driving too fast or too recklessly. I go the speed limit. I don’t need LAPD crawling up my ass over a traffic infraction.

In the cup holder beside me is Milena’s “wingspan matters” travel mug. I couldn’t abandon it on the street when I kidnapped her. She loves that damn thing.

Her phone, however, I left where it fell. I’ll buy her a new one when this is all over. An upgrade, without a cracked screen. Sitting at a red light, I stare blankly into the distance until the car behind me honks irritably.

I don’t want this to be over.

I’ve had a taste, but I’m not ready to release her yet.

Now that I’ve had the exquisite pleasure of her pouty lips wrapped around my cock, and tasted her when she gets so fucking hot for me, it’s impossible to imagine losing her.

Maybe I never intended to let her go.