Corrupt (Devil's Night 1)
Page 111
And I was so tired. There was something holding him back.
I stared at my alarm clock, wondering if I should even bother to set it. I had classes tomorrow, but I wouldn’t make it. I knew that. It was already after two in the morning, and I still hadn’t slept.
I gazed at the red numbers, wondering what I was going to do. Would he act like none of this had happened tomorrow?
But then I blinked, my brain going on alert. The numbers on the screen disappeared, the clock went dead, and I jerked my head up, pinching my eyebrows together.
What the…?
I turned around to see the small lights along the bottom of the bathroom walls—which were always kept on as a type of night-light—dark as well.
I pushed myself up, turning the knob on the bedside lamp, but that didn’t work, either.
“Shit.”
I twisted my head, looking out the window and seeing a light breeze. It wasn’t anything major, but the power could’ve gone out, I guessed.
Climbing off the bed, I walked to my door and opened it a crack. The hallway was nearly pitch black. I couldn’t see five feet in front of me.
My heart started to race, and I inched the door open all the way, peering out. “Michael?”
But the only sound I heard was the low howl of the wind outside. My toes curled into the carpet.
Stepping out of my room, I walked slowly, looking around and keeping my ears peeled as I made my way down the hallway.
“Michael?” I called again. “Where are you?”
I clenched my fists, the eerie darkness of the house vibrating off every inch of my skin. I felt like someone was behind me and I was being watched.
The grandfather clock chimed for the quarter hour, still working since it ran off a battery, and I stepped lightly down the stairs and into the foyer, twisting my head side to side and breathing hard.
But then someone grabbed my arm, and I sucked in a sharp breath. A large, dark form picked me up and wrapped my legs around his waist, holding me tight.
“No!” I cried out.
He slammed me into a wall next to a small table, the mirror above it shaking as I gripped his shoulders and he dug his fingers into my thighs.
I stared wide-eyed, coming face to face with a vicious red mask.
Michael.
The dark, violent gouges sent shivers down my spine, and his eyes stared out through the small holes like a chained monster. I stopped breathing.
Fear swirled in my gut, warming my insides and making every muscle clench. I tightened my thighs around his waist, feeling the slickness between my legs and my nipples chafe against my tank top.
Oh, God. He was right.
My eyes burned, and I wanted to cry. Goddammit, he was right.
I locked my ankles behind his back and held his shoulders as his hazel eyes stared at me. He wore jeans and a black hoodie, just like in the past.
I stared into his eyes and slowly slid my arms around his neck, the drumming in my chest charging every muscle in my body, making me strong.
“Yes,” I breathed out, bringing my lips close to his mask and taunting him. “Yes, it turns me on.”
And then I dived down, burying my lips in his neck and devouring him.
He let out a breath, digging his fingers into my thighs as I went at him, nibbling and biting. I caught his hot skin between my teeth, sucking on him and kissing, before reaching up and flicking his ear lobe with the tip of my tongue.