Hunt

“I promise I won’t.” She inched away as I came for her. “No. Do not duct—”

I taped her mouth. “You won’t be able to help yourself. Trust me. You will want to scream.”

She widened her eyes and tried to get up.

I held her down with one hand. “I can put you to sleep if you want.”

She froze.

“Do you want that?”

Mumbling under the tape, she frantically shook her head.

“Okay. You don’t want me to put you to sleep. So, you want to know everything that’s going on?”

She nodded.

“I still have to tie your ankles.”

She mumbled under the tape.

“It’s so you don’t move too much. I don’t want to hit an artery.”

She tried to speak and moved her cuffed wrists.

“Put your hands back or I’ll put you to sleep.”

Rage blazed in her eyes. She raised her hands back over her head.

I grabbed one of the loops of rope and assessed the bed. “Good. I can pull the rope around the frame’s bar.”

Phoenix lifted her head as if trying to figure out what I was talking about.

I started at one leg. I wrapped rope around it, pulled the length down to the frame under the box spring, and looped it through. That part was difficult since I had to lift the mattress and box spring a little. Yet, the knots came together and held the rope in nicely.

The whole time Phoenix mumbled under the tape.

When one ankle was tied in place, I made another loop of rope, went to the other ankle, and moved it further to the left, needing her thighs fully spread apart. I secured that ankle and rose, loving the view.

Perfect.

Tears spilled from her eyes.

There, she lay on the bed—spread eagle and bound by rope. Her wrists cuffed above her head. Her legs stretched wide. Her thighs pushed open. Her feet bound to the bed.

She’s a fucking angel.

I grabbed the other loop of rope and walked around the bed.

Phoenix twisted and followed me with her gaze.

I got to her wrists, hooked the rope around the cuffs, pulled the rope down, and tied it to the frame just like I’d done her legs.

There we go.

Phoenix tried to speak under the duct tape, but I could no longer focus.

Finally.

I could taste her fear and arousal in the air. It all merged together in this thick, seductive perfume. My blood throbbed with lust. My hands trembled. My breath came out hot, burning my throat.

I rubbed my dick over the denim material I was wearing. “Now, we can truly begin.”

Chapter 10

Love is a Rebellious Bird

PHOENIX

W

hat is he going to do?

I was restrained to the bed with my mouth duct taped. All I could do was helplessly lay here and wait for my bloodied fate.

He won’t kill me. He won’t kill me.

Cain had said I was the best thing that had happened to him. That now. . .perhaps. . .he might believe in God again. That had to count for something. It had to aid in my survival.

Still, I drowned in fear, panic, and anxiety. It all ripped and waved through me at once. He was a fucking maniac. A serial killer with a whole metal torture room in the woods. If that didn’t represent deranged sicko, then I didn’t know what did.

What will he do?

My brain short-circuited with all the possibilities.

“I heard you listening to opera music earlier.” He took off his gloves and pulled out a small leather bag.

I lifted my head to get a closer look.

“Lacrimosa.” Cain lay the leather bag next to me and unzipped the side and then unrolled it. “That warmed the darker parts of me. You were thinking of us. You didn’t forget about our moments.”

What’s this?

Straining, I lifted my head up as high as I could and peered. Knifes, needles, and scalpels lay in it.

No. No.

I screamed, but the duct tape muffled the sound.

“I’ll have to play more opera for you.”

I fought against the cuffs and rope and found no escape.

He watched me fail at getting away. “Habanera is a great song. A classic. It’s the famous Carmen melody. Have you heard it?”

I tried to scream more.

“The song is also known as L’amour est un oiseau rebelle.”

I stared wildly at him.

“That means love is a rebellious bird.” He returned his view to the bag and assessed the items. “The song is perfect for that opera because it expresses how mad love can take a beautiful turn or simply ruin everything.”

I swallowed down my fear and tried to talk to him.

Just get him to take the tape off my mouth. Maybe I can talk him out of whatever he’s going to do.

Cain grabbed the scalpel and raised it in front of his face. The scalpel glinted blueish-silver, reflecting the moonlight spilling in from the window. Its sides were smooth, polished and razor sharp.

“The character, Carmen sings it.” He studied the sharp object.