Page 17 of Slaying for Sloan
"Run," he says, his voice low and still rough with lust. "One hour left, my sweet doe. Make it count."
I stare at him, trying to catch my breath, trying to process everything that he just did. The music has changed again – "Let It Snow" now.My whole body feels like a live wire, every nerve ending screaming,pleadingfor more.
"Run," he repeats, and this time there's an edge to his voice that makes me shiver. "Or I'll catch you again, and you know what happens when I catch you for a third time..."
The promise in those words gets me moving. I scramble to my feet, adjusting my dress with shaking hands. My reflection in the window shows hair messed beyond repair, lips swollen, cheeks flushed. I look thoroughly ravished, and the sight sends another wave of heat through me. This is what Alex Adams can do when he lets go.Thisis what happens when the perfect facade cracks.
I pause at the door, looking back at him. He's still watching me with those predator's eyes, his usual perfect composure nowhere to be seen.
"What if I want you to catch me?" I tease, surprised by the huskiness in my own voice. In this moment, I don't care about his family's expectations or society's rules. I want more ofthis– more of him, raw and unrestrained.
He’s silent for a moment while he watches me, making my heart thump harder. When he finally speaks again, his voice is so feral it scares me. He no longer sounds like himself. "Then run faster."
I burst out of the gingerbread house and back into the snowy night. The mechanical elves watch my escape with their painted eyes, still moving in their never ending dance. The music fades as I get farther and farther away.
One hour left. One hour to make it to the church. One hour before he does… what? The uncertainty thrills me almost as much as the chase itself.
Behind me, I hear the gingerbread house door open again, and my pulse spikes. Every cell in my body screams to turn around, to let him catch me again, to discover what other darkness he's been hiding. But I force myself forward, running through the wonderland of lights and snow.
The hunt is on.
And this time, I'm not sure if I'm running away or running toward something. All I know is that I'm running, and somewhere in this snowy night, Alex is following.
The colored lights blur around me as I pick up speed, freshly fallen snow crunching beneath my boots. My scalp tingles where he gripped my hair. Ahead lies the unknown – more challenges, more chase, more of whatever the fuck this game is that we're playing. Behind me lies the gingerbread house with its mechanical decorations and its secrets, and somewhere in between is Alex, hunting me through this winter wonderland of a town.
One hour left to run. One hour left to play. One hour left to discover just how deep his hunger for me goes.
I run faster, grinning into the snowy night as snow blasts my face, my whole body alive.
I'm ready for it all. Ready to see just how far Alex will go when he finally lets himself fall.
The night stretches ahead of me, full of promise and danger and desire.
And I run toward it, laughing like a fucking maniac.
Chapter Ten
ASHER
She still thinks I’m Alex.
The thought lingers in my mind like the fading echo of her laugh, a secret so delicious it’s almost better than the game itself.Almost. My cock is still hard, pulsing with the memory of her soft lips, the way she gagged and fought to breathe, and yet didn’t pull away.
She didn’t stop.God, she didn’t stop.
My body hums with cocky satisfaction. Twice now, I’ve caught her, and both times she’s crumbled so beautifully under me.
But the third time… Oh, the third time is when I’ll truly make her mine.
I move silently through the snow, my steps muffled by its fresh, powdery layer. Sloan’s ahead, darting between glowing decorations and weaving through the trees. Her silhouette flashes in and out of view, framed by the goddamn kaleidoscope of holiday lights. She’s breathtaking, her wild and untamed energy feeding the predator in me, the part that’s always craved something more raw and real than the polished life my family always demanded of me.
She’s running fast, her hair a messy tangle around her flushed face. She knows exactly what she’s doing—how she’s taunting me. My sweet doe knows just how to be the perfect fucking prey. The way she glances back every so often, the grin on her swollen lips when she spots me—she wants this as much as I do, even if she doesn’t fully understand what she’s inviting in.
“Run, sweet doe,” I murmur, my voice dark and slow, dripping with anticipation. “The longer you flee, the sweeter the catch will be. And once I have you, you won’t escape again.” My tone is low, laced with a promise, a thrill that hums through the words, a mix of lust and dominance. It’s a predator’s patience, savoring every second of the hunt, knowing the moment I close in, she’ll be mine.
You’re so fucking perfect, Sloan. And you think I’m him.
It’s almost cruel, really, how easy it’s been to step into Alex’s shoes tonight. All it took was the ski mask and a little mimicry of his tone to get her running. He would have never understood her the way I do. His entire life he’s been too busy playing the golden boy, the perfect obedient son.