Page 13 of The October Trials

The word crackles in my chest, but can’t make its way out. I have a feeling he wouldn’t listen anyway.

He stops when he’s close enough that I have to look up to hold the mask’s eyeline.

For a second, my brain refuses to connect the dots. It clings to denial, to logic, to anything that makes this feel less like a trap tightening around me.

Then it hits.

Cat.

Cat.

They’re not making me eat a cat.

He’s eating my cat.

My breath catches so sharply it hurts. “No—” The word barely leaves my mouth before he drops to his knees between my spread legs. His fingers dig into my inner thighs, hard enough to bruise, holding me open for him. “Wait.”

But he’s already moving, pulling his mask up to rest in his hair.

I don’t even get the relief of seeing his face clearly. My vision won’t settle, everything blurred by panic, and in the next breath, my black fishnet tights are torn. His breath ghosts across my bare skin.

“Mmm, so fucking wet. All for me?”

Shame. Shame, heat, and fucking more shame explode inside me because he’s right.

The cold edge of his mask brushes against my thighs first, then the wet heat of his tongue drags slowly up my center.

My head tips back for half a second before I force it forward again.

No. No—

My thoughts fracture, scrambling. This isn’t right. It shouldn’t feel this goooo—

A soft, broken inhale slips out of me as he laps up all I have to offer. “Oh.”

My fingers dig into the chair, knuckles aching. I force myself still. Silent. I can’t give him my reaction.

Out of freaking nowhere, a sharp gasp cuts through the room. My head snaps to the side, and my stomach drops straight through the floor, then the soil, then the center of the goddamn earth.

Parker.

Holy shit. His eyes lock onto mine, wide and burning.

So he is here, in this house.

Of course he is.

Of course it’s now.

“Park—” I try to say it, but my voice comes out strained.

His hands clench at his sides like he wants to rip the masked devil off me, but knows he can’t. How fucked is this?

I bite down hard on my lip until a metallic taste floods my tongue, fighting to stay silent now that Parker is watching.

The masked devil doesn’t stop. If anything, he notices the new audience and doubles down. His tongue lashes incessantly, licking and sucking without mercy. Every time he buries his face deeper, the cold porcelain of his mask grinds against my swollen clit.

It’s torturous, agonizing, the deep throb that follows every time it connects.