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temptress-writes · 10 months

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⛓️ Thrill Of The Chase

A/N: Here's my spooky Haunted House Daydream! He's... a complete freak. Not even in a good way. An asshole and a creep.

Content Warnings: stalking, blood, knives.

Sexual Content: (please read with caution!) rough, bondage with chains, sub/dom, collar play, mask kink, blood play (no drawing of blood), knife play, spitting, choking, cock-warming, slapping, degradation, and squirting.

Word Count—10k.

Enjoy!

***

Red.

Crimson strobes that matched the thrum of his pounding heart. The eerie music drowned out the sound of his industrial chains dragging on the ground.

There was something beautiful about someone unsuspecting. Someone so blissfully unaware that they were in danger. Consumed by what was to come ahead of them as they pressed forward, not sensing the imminent peril about to ensue.

There was something about her. His eyes kept flickering to the skin of her thighs, exposed by the short hem of her skirt. He couldn't remember what he was doing before he saw her. His routine had been sidestepped by her. He was drawn to her, so he let his feet lag a meter or so behind her small frame, timid in the space as she walked forward.

He wasn't sure what he'd do if she looked behind her, because if she did—once she did—it was game on for him, game over for her.

She was clueless, too focused on the path directly ahead of her to even think about her surroundings. Not once did she look over her shoulder.

That was her second mistake.

The first? She'd been separated from her group of friends, left to fend for herself and navigate on her own. She didn't seem overly fazed or panicked. If he didn't know any better, he'd even say she favoured being alone. She was inquisitive, perceptive. And that was his favourite type of person. The loners with only their thoughts to keep them company, complex in their notions with how closed off they were.

But she was almost more curious without the burden of the company she had just a few minutes before when she was with her friends. That was when he saw her. Saw her shout and laugh and have fun. He was intrigued by her. He could sense something deeper behind those wild eyes and before he knew it, he was following her.

Even through the eyes of his mask, he was enticed by her beauty. Delicious and endearing, her torso encased in a tight black corset that laced up the front and made her tits look unreal and plump. She looked soft and he wanted to be rough with her. See what she'd allow him to do, see how much she could take. Her fucking thighs. They were soft and demanded to be pressed against either side of his head while he had his mouth on her.

With his movements slow and subtle, he kept following her. The two chains hung around his neck were cold and heavy against his skin, dragging on the ground as he hunted her.

It was of paramount importance that he remained unseen. For now at least. He wanted to be close to her first. To study her mannerisms, to see how she dealt with fear. He wanted to know if she'd fight. Scream. Cower. Run.

She veered right, cautiously entering a room to explore it. He smiled, knowing it was a dead end. This was his chance. She'd be looking around, searching for hidden entrances, completely distracted. He had to catch her off guard. It was now or never.

His wide frame filled the doorway, and he let the end of his chains rest on the ground with a soft clink. He knew how menacing he'd look. His face hidden and his attire daunting, terrifying.

He watched her. Ready to pounce on the prey he'd been hunting. She was still none the wiser, pulling at panels in the walls, looking under furniture. She was looking for a way and out was getting actively more and more panicked.

He could have laughed at how the little devil horns on her head completely contradicted her tense state, attached to a headband and muted burgundy.

Her nerves and uncertainty made his veins thrum. Strains of anticipation and adrenaline coursed through his body as she became more frantic. There was a stratum of arousal that simmered beneath his skin. He'd anticipated it to appear, knowing that it came to him quicker than lighting a match when he was here.

She was lost. Now, she was trapped. And she didn't even fucking know it yet.

As if in defeat, she sighed, grumbling lowly to herself about being separated from her friends. She was still facing away from him, but he could see the exact moment that she knew she wasn't alone. He could sense her awareness prickle, knowing that if he got close enough, he'd be able to see goosebumps cover her skin, her pulse quicken.

Again—he wasn't sure what his plan was once he made himself known to her. Maybe she'd scream and run. Maybe she'd beg him to tie her up in his chains and destroy her. He never knew with girls like her.

Giving up on the room that he knew was a dead end, she turned. She gasped at the sight of him, sharp and ripping through her lungs in fright. A shot of terror spread up her spine, sending her into a brief shock as she stood before him.

His face was fully obscured by a black mask, red X's where his eyes were. Two chains draped over his broad shoulders, a red leather suit that fit him well. His torso was bare, dripping in fake blood in lieu of a shirt. She could see that his neck and torso were covered in tattoos, marred by the blood that trickled down his skin.

And a collar. Black leather, worn and smeared with blood.

He didn't say or do anything, and that was somehow more terrifying. Many of the other actors got their thrills off jump scares, tailing, and chasing the visitors. But him... he was taunting her. Stood blocking her only entrance with his body.

She swallowed, her throat dry as she stared at him with wide eyes that only excited him further. Framed by black smoky eyeshadow, molten and burning

"I-I lost my friends."

Her voice was quiet and feeble. Shaky as she explained why she was alone, hoping he'd take pity on her and let her leave. Maybe even guide her way. But he didn't fucking say anything. He was reeling in her fear. How she was cowering in on herself, inwardly begging for his mercy.

As opposed to giving her an answer, or an indication that he heard her. He was silent, the music softened in the room she stood in, his shadow cast long as the red strobe lighting ensued.

This was his favourite part. The stark realisation in fearful eyes that the hunt was over. He could practically see her heart thumping against her chest rapidly.

A part of her was annoyed. She'd been dragged to this haunted house by her giddy friends, wanting to get into the full Halloween spirit. It wasn't that she didn't want to. She'd actually been looking forward to tonight, she'd even dressed up. She loved the adrenaline that came with fear, the burst of rushing excitement that propelled the body into fight or flight mode.

This haunted house was huge, offering hidden passages and scares around almost every corner, winding hallways that never seemed to end. This particular haunted house was an old abandoned mansion in the middle of nowhere, the perfect setting for the ultimate terror. It was fully furnished in antique décor, huge old paintings, and dusty bookshelves. Nightmare inducing.

But when her friends had been jump scared by a waiting man covered in fake blood and a fake chainsaw, they bolted. Leaving her stranded as she backed away from the man and ran down an adjacent hallway, rushing past a room he was in. That was when he decided that she was his prey.

She'd taken a wrong turn in a moment of panic. She hadn't wanted to stay in the same place and knew she had to keep moving. And now here she was. Stuck in this room with a masked figure blocking the exit, blood, and chains.

Was this his gag? Did he just intimidate guests as opposed to chase and scare them, as all of the others did? She'd just been chased by a man with a chainsaw a minute prior, but this man was far more terrifying. And he knew it.

Her breathing picked up, unsure of how far this actor was willing to go to get a fright out of her. Her spine straightened as his head slowly tilted to the side. She gulped, opening her mouth but nothing came out, not even the pathetic pleas that were rolling around in her chest, not daring to come up.

I'm lost.

Please, just let me pass.

Help me find my friends.

But she couldn't find the strength to push the words past her lips. Like his stare was holding her in place. She was captivated by him, past the initial fear of having him suddenly appear behind her. Now she was intrigued.

She watched as one of his hands gripped the industrial chain in his fist, wrapping it around his hand like he'd done it a million times. It was second nature. His rings jingled and clinked against the links, covered in red. He took a slow, steady, and controlled step towards her. She took one back, startled at the movement.

His head looked down, staring at her feet before his gaze leisurely veered its way to her face again. He was so silent. So daunting. Dripping blood. Flashing red. Silver chains. She could see the curls on his head, a few draped over the top of the mask and it somehow reminded her that he was simply a man behind a formidable disguise.

Once he'd taken her in properly, he sauntered towards her fully. His steps were sure and calculated. Gauging her reaction with every stride closer. Her chest was heaving with anticipation. He was away from the doorframe now and the room was wide enough that she could swerve around him and escape. But she found herself not wanting to run from him. She had been captured by him and found herself intrigued in his presence. Perhaps it was the fact that he was so silent but clearly just as curious about her.

He saw her almost relax. At least her body seemed to dissolve from its frozen state. He took another few steps forward, his chains dragging harrowingly on the ground. Her eyes didn't leave him, and gradually her fear was replaced by wonder. His eyes found those damned devil horns again.

"You took a wrong turn, little devil."

Her body was on guard as soon as he spoke. Maybe a statue of uncertainty, but she couldn't deny the way his words tingled in her spine, warm and icy at the same time. His tone was hot yet harboured a glacial bite. She didn't respond, not sure how to.

"Are you scared?" His voice was low and dangerous, the words spoken in a calm manner that sent a chill up her spine.

"No." She replied even though her voice hinted differently.

He came to stand directly in front of her, and she walked back until her back hit the wall. His chest was directly in front of her, leather parted to reveal the wet crimson that adorned it. He stepped closer, staring down at her through his ominous mask. It tilted to the side again as he studied her and she struggled to control her breathing.

"And now?" He purred, smooth and deep. "Are you scared now?"

"N-No."

"If you are," he stepped away, the door fully displayed to her, "you can leave. Any time you want."

She stood her ground, her friends forgotten. She was stubborn like this. Always wanting to prove the people around her wrong. She was curious as to where this could possibly lead. What he could lead to. She wanted to test him a little. "You're nothing to be afraid of."

He smiled devilishly behind his mask at the bite of her tone. She may think that now. He hadn't done anything remotely scary aside from having the attire that he did and shock her a little by his first appearance. But he couldn't wait to prove her wrong. He was just providing her with the out if she wanted to take it. He moved back to his previous position, directly in front of her. So close that he was the only thing she could see.

You're nothing to be afraid of.

"Not yet."

He was crowding her space, his broad frame overwhelming her senses. Any thought of leaving was long gone. Her heart was racing because of him, faster than this haunted house ever could.

"You look so pretty like this." He voiced. "Lost. Helpless."

She gulped. She wanted to see the face behind the mask. Watch his lips move as he spoke to her, see the colour of his eyes as they regarded her.

"It's okay." He crooned, his voice almost soothing while his words were anything but. "I found you."

She watched as he let the chains drop in a heap on the floor, the loud and abrasive sound of it offering no clarity of the situation. His hand came up, landing on the wall next to her head. He leaned in so close she could smell the leather and soft vanilla of him. A sweet deception, masked by blood and chains.

"What will I do with you?"

Her eyes fluttered. "Whatever you want."

He seemed taken aback by her response. A string of submissive words that he felt in his cock. Her eyes, once wide with fear, were now lulled with growing arousal. She wanted him already. She wanted this. This chase, the danger, and the terror. She'd wanted all that came with the adrenaline but something that was more than what she was expecting.

The excitement that came with the chase. The fiery, sizzling arousal that perused it as quickly as he had perused her.

She didn't even want to think about it. He'd hunted her, and she'd inwardly needed him to. To find her alone and press her against the wall just like he was now. She wanted something exhilarating and unforeseen and he'd given her the realisation of that.

"And what do you think it is that I want?"

"Me."

He smirked under his mask. Smart girl. "That's right."

"My friends will come looking for me soon." She said. It was clearly a warning. She felt frantic, felt the need to tell him for some reason she couldn't place. They had to be quick about their time together or they'd be interrupted.

"You tryna rush me?" He stepped somehow even closer.

"No! No. I-I only meant that they could walk in on us and-"

"Stop talking."

She opened her mouth to fumble out an apology but snapped her jaw shut.

"Good girl. Are you listening?"

"Yes,"

"I want you to run from me."

"From you?"

"Think of it as a fun game."

She felt a rush of excitement strike through her body, igniting her limbs and her soul. "Where do I go?"

"Anywhere you want. I'll be right behind you."

It was both a threat and a promise, laced with the prize of what she'd get once he caught her.

"Do I get a head start?"

He sighed deeply, shaking his head slowly. "You better run, little devil."

She didn't waste any time, feeling a jolt of panic at the warning in his tone. Little devil. She'd have to try to live up to the name, make him work hard for her, and provide the challenge they were both seeking.

She skirted out the door, turning in the opposite direction she'd initially come in. This haunted house was also a maze, filled with trap doors and dead ends. The setup was true to the name. Gory props, old furnishings that exaggerated faux age and misuse. It was disorientating as she tried to navigate it.

But then she heard those chains dragging on the ground behind her and it gave her all the motivation she needed.

She hurled herself down a hallway, running up a flight of stairs, entering rooms and leaving into secret passages. The floorboards were old and creaky, giving away her location as she fled. There were a few actors dotted around, stationed to scare guests but she could barely see them. She was so focused on this chase, trying to escape him so that he could catch her. She couldn't run forever and realised there was every possibility that she'd end up in the more populated center of the house.

Did she want that? Just when the real fun had started? She had to see this through. To evade him if she could, get him riled up after he'd worked hard to find her.

She looked behind her into a darkened hallway, not seeing anything. But that didn't mean that he wasn't there.

He probably knew the maze-like the back of his hand, even in the darkness. She slipped into a room, dimly lit aside from the red bulb in the center of the ceiling, flickering and swinging dangerously. There was a large window that offered the view of how isolated the house was from society, the outside world dark and eerie. It was an odd setup, an aged chair in the corner, a lot of mirrors, and hooks. The set had looked so fake at first, but now she was fully immersed in it and gulped.

"I caught you."

She jumped, not hearing him come to stand in the doorway. Her chest was heaving from running, and he was barely out of breath. Had he run at all? Seeing that she'd put in so much effort while he lulled behind and caught her with no problem made her realise just how much power he had over her. And she was fucking thriving off it.

"I could have used that head start." She gasped, staring at the X's over his eyes.

"I don't play fair, little devil. I would have caught you anyway."

His chains hung off his shoulders again, the leather of his suit hauntingly beautiful under the flickering red light. He looked untouchable. Intimidating and delicious. She wanted to run her hands through his curls, over his bloody chest, rip the mask off his face and suck on his tongue.

"I'm glad you did." She admitted freely.

"I liked watching you run from me."

"You did?"

"Seeing those perfect tits in that tiny top bounce, your skirt barely covering your ass. Dirty fucking girl. I can feel how much you like it. You enjoy the chase just as much as I did."

"I like the way it feels," she breathed out, "the excitement and anticipation of it. Knowing you'd catch me but not sure when."

He sauntered towards her. "Do you know what it did to me? Seeing you run?"

"No." And she knew that he'd enlighten her.

"Mm, it made me want to catch you," which he'd done, "tie you up and make a mess of you."

That fucking got her. Her breathing hitched for an entirely different reason, now. He'd wound her up so perfectly. Played her so that she could only grow more inquisitive. He was tapping into a part of her brain that had never been tampered with before. He held the manual to her desires, filing through and testing her.

"Then why don't you?"

He was in front of her again, the chains spilling to the floor. Her eyes went from the collar around his neck to the thick muscles underneath it. He swallowed, as if knowing her attention was there, and she watched. Wanting to taste him there.

"What's your favourite number?"

Her expression screwed up, his query totally out of the blue. "...Six."

"Six," he repeated, trialing the word on his tongue. "you say six and I stop. Do you understand? Tell me you do."

"I say six and you stop."

"Six." He reaffirmed, then his tone dropped an octave lower. "Good girl."

She was prepared to have him. To have his hands on her, playing with her and making her lose her mind. But he stepped away, tilting his head in thought before he turned around and went towards the old door. He closed it, producing an employee key before locking it. It sunk in, then. That she was in this room with this dauntless stranger, who had her chained up in his existence. Closed off from the world, on display for him and only him. Whoever he was.

Unsure of what to do, and waiting for his guidance, she stood still. He held the reigns and she was happy to listen to and obey his commands. He gathered his chains from the ground, his torso glistening as he stood in the middle of the room before veering to the wall across from her, attaching the chains to the hooks on the wall.

Their placement seemed secure enough but easy to remove if need be. He let the chains dangle, admiring them as if they were art before making his way over to her again. He stood close as if he knew just what it did to her. Having him right in front of her but not doing anything was driving her wild. She couldn't read his expressions or pick up on anything in his eyes. She was completely in the dark.

"Can I touch you?"

"Yes," she breathed out, "please."

A shiver ran up her spine as he raised a finger, trailing the pad of it delicately across her bottom lip.

"So soft."

His touch melted across to her cheek, gently cupping it before moving to the side of her neck. He squeezed it a little, gauging her reaction to having his hand apply pressure there. To his delight, her eyes fluttered and she sighed at the touch. Extending her neck out to allow him more of her.

Her eyes stayed on him. Wondering what he looked like under that mask. His voice was dark and smoky, billowing and reaching the depths of her. She wondered how expressive his eyes would be. If they'd allow her to see his thoughts before he voiced them, or if they were void and emotionless. Truly encapsulating the dangerous persona he portrayed. Or maybe this was really him. All cold chains, no warmth.

She watched as his hand ran along his chest, gathering the blood on his hand before he gripped her neck again, squeezing and spreading crimson on her skin.

"You may be the devil," He murmured. His fingers gripped her jaw, eager to see him just as red as he was. "but I make hell look like heaven."

"Show me, then."

"Is that what you want? For me to scare you?"

"It's a haunted house, I came here to be scared."

He took her hand, lacing their fingers together, spreading blood. He steered her to where he'd prepared the chains. She stood between them, a little higher up on the wall. He pressed her flat against it, watching her chest heave in anticipation.

He grabbed her wrist, his eyes not leaving her face. Wanting to gauge her reaction, make sure she was comfortable. She was at ease, riddled with intrigue and curiosity.

She'd expected to get a few jump scares tonight, not get chained up to a wall and fucked by a stranger. They didn't even know each other's names and somehow it just didn't seem important.

He wrapped the chain around her wrist, securing it with the hook on the end until it fit perfectly. She stared at the restraint with wide eyes and he tugged it until her arm was brought up and suspended. The excess rained in links to the floor.

"That too tight?" He checked in a low voice.

"No, it feels... good."

The metal was cold against her skin, cooling how heated she felt. He was pleased with her response, watching her pupils dilated with excitement as he took care of her other wrist. She was slick between her thighs, and she had been ever since he asked her if she was scared.

She was fully restrained. Completely at his disposal. Even though he was still in that mask, she could feel his hot gaze on her. Admiring how beautiful she looked under his power.

He stepped forward, bringing a leg between hers and pressing his thigh tight against her cunt. She gasped at the unexpected pressure, rolling her hips to gain some relief between her legs. Her clit throbbed against his leg, her skirt leaving little to the imagination. He could feel the heat of her as she desperately ground on his leg. He tsked, her shameless behavior making him lightheaded, wanting to prove that he was in charge.

"Desperate little thing," he retrieved his leg from between hers, "got my pants wet."

She whimpered, feeling so needy. She was throbbing between her legs, practically dripping as he gathered her wetness from his thigh with a bloodless finger that he made her suck on. She hummed, tasting herself. Her eyes didn't leave him, wanting him to see just how much she enjoyed it.

He stared at her attire, from her devil horns to her corset, to that tiny fucking skirt. As much as he loved how she looked, he wanted to see what she was hiding underneath it all. He wanted to play with her, have her shaking before he succumbed and fucked her. His cock was achingly hard and had been all night. He always was as soon as he got dressed up to come here.

Just the idea of slipping on his leather, bathing in blood, and chaining somebody up, got him so fucking turned on that it made him dizzy.

He opened one side of his jacket, producing a knife from the inner pocket. She felt a flash of panic at the sight of it, covered in fake blood. She internalised that it was just a prop, and he bent his arm, wiping the blood from the blade in the fold of his inner elbow. The handle was intricate and unique, antique gold embedded with rubies.

With a menacingly slow manner, he dragged the tip of it along her lower lip. It was a feather-light touch, cold and sharp against her.

"Are you scared now?"

She whimpered, the blade dragging down her jaw to her neck. "No."

His hidden smile grew, and he took the blade lower, trailing it across her collar bones. His gaze flickered between the knife and her eyes, enjoying the shock swimming in the wide depths of them.

She gasped when the blade dipped into the valley of her breasts, coming up to trace the swell of each one. Goosebumps blossomed in the path of it, her breathing picking up. He hummed, pressing the blade against her, a sharp sting panging where he threatened to puncture the skin. He didn't let it, using it as a way to gauge how much she was willing to let him do. She let out a soft moan, and he knew that he fucking had her.

He wanted more of her. He let the blade drag down, slicing through the ribbon of her corset that held it together in the front. With every sliver torn, more of her skin was exposed to him. He worked from the top down, sighing as her luscious tits fell free before he finally cut the entire corset from her torso.

He ripped it from her, throwing it to the ground with a soft growl. He wanted to put his hands on her but she wasn't begging for it yet. He'd have to work a little harder.

The blade circled her nipples, hardened from the cool air but more so from him. The knife flicked at them, her body melting and shaking all at once. He hummed, deep in his chest, the noise more muted because of his mask.

"You look delicious," he said, "but you're missing something."

He put the blade away in his jacket, reaching up with ringed fingers to undo the collar around his bloodied neck. He looped it around hers, tightening it until she could feel the subtle pressure of the leather.

And then he grabbed a spare chain, attaching it to the small silver hoop at the front of the collar. He gathered more blood, smearing it across her chest with a slight flourish. Her tits dripping crimson, surging under her heavy breaths.

"There we are. Perfect."

He took a step back to admire his work. She couldn't think straight, her thoughts honed in on him and him alone. On his collar around her neck and his chains around her wrists.

"I imagined you like this," he continued, "trying to run from me. Chained up, covered in blood. At my mercy with my collar around your throat."

She felt a rush of arousal spread throughout her, wet between her legs and flushing her already red chest. She'd never felt like this before. Handing over her body and trust so easily to a man she'd never seen the face of. It was a deeper connection, a desire of hers that mirrored his.

"Please..." She whispered, needing something from him. Anything. She was exposed for him and he wasn't doing anything about it.

"What?" He crooned, pleased that she'd finally found her voice. "Tell me what you need."

"I need you."

He stepped closer, tilting his head. "Where?"

"Anywhere."

"Anywhere?" His hand trailed up her thigh, brushing her clothed cunt.

She shuddered when he targeted her clit with soft pressure. "Fuck, please."

"Mm, feels like you really want me here." His tone was verging on condescending.

She moaned, rolling her hips towards his hand. He slipped his fingers past her panties, finding her warmth saturated and hot, slick against his skin and pulsing.

"Fuck, you're dripping. Pathetic little thing."

Her stomach dropped at the insult, swirling into a heat she didn't know was possible. It flourished and soared, blistering hot and tingling between her legs. She felt pathetic in the best way. Completely in his hands and thriving off it.

"More," She begged, his fingertip brushing her entrance, gathering her wetness before circling her clit.

"I'll give you more." He promised, working his hand faster. "Just need to hear you say it."

"S-Say what?"

"That you're a desperate little whore."

She softly gasped, his fingers moving against her, not quite giving her the pace nor pressure that she was craving.

"I'm a..."

He gripped the chain attached to the collar, giving it a soft tug to make her focus. "Go on."

"I'm a desperate little whore." She whispered, giving in. He already had her chained up and covered in blood.

"Do you want me to play with you, hm? Or fuck you until you cry?"

"Both, please."

He made a noise of approval, pleased by her response. She was such a good girl for him. Those devil horns had deceived him. She had fight in her, but he'd been able to capture and tame it. Wrap a collar around it and make it his.

Dropping to his knees in front of her, he unzipped her skirt and pulled it down her legs, and helped her step out of it. Her boots stumbled as she righted her footing. Where her attire was fully black, her panties were bright red. He groaned, running his fingertips across the tops of her thighs.

She was so soft, so delicate. He wanted to ruin her. Marr her flesh with the blood, make her shake, mark her.

A group of people passed outside the door, screaming obnoxiously as they passed down the hallway. She jumped in shock, somehow forgetting that she was in the midst of a popular Halloween attraction. The door was locked but that did little to lessen the excitement at the idea of getting caught.

He ran his mask along her thighs, cool against her. She wanted his warmth. His mouth on her, his eyes on her. She rolled her hips out, desperately wanting him there. He was avoiding touching her there. Wanting her absolutely dripping for him.

And she was. She was a quivering mess. Whimpered at every soft touch, needing more and knowing she'd fall apart when she finally got it.

He pulled her panties down, not wanting to waste another second. He wanted to see her. Feel her. He brushed his thumb over her clit, her legs spasming at the attention. She was glistening wet and he hated how obstructed he was behind his mask.

He felt comfortable enough to remove it and expose his true identity to her, but he also liked being a mystery.

Fuck.

"I've got to taste you." He said it like he was complaining that he didn't have his mouth on her cunt yet.

His fingers delved between her folds. He deliberated, before removing his mask. His curls flopped forward into his face as he kept his head bowed, gently placing his mask to the side. It was the most care he'd shown with anything tonight.

He slowly looked up, allowing her the expanse of his features, illuminated only by the dim red light. A swinging bulb, mesmerising her just as she locked eyes with him. Surprised by the stark brightness of them, completely contrasting his voice and his words and his actions. His mind, murky and complex. His eyes were just as deep, but there was a hint of humanity in them that she hadn't had a taste of all night.

Features as fierce and sure as his confidence, he was devastatingly beautiful. A strong nose and sharp jaw. Lips plump and rosy, even under the crimson hue of lighting. Soft, tousled curls that lessened the blow of his hardened expression.

Blood. As she'd only just gotten used to his body being covered in it, it was also splattered across his face. Varying speckles dusted across his features, some dryer than others. He looked dangerous, especially now. Knife-wielding doused and sputtered in blood. On his knees, staring up at her with a hunger that should have scared her.

She'd been staring for far too long and he knew it. He even smirked a little, a lopsided one that told her he knew. She was awe-struck. And he was fucking bathing in it.

"Like what you see?" He queried, not giving her a chance to respond before his eyes settled between her legs. "I know I do."

With no warning or build-up, his tongue flashed out to lick her. Flicking against her clit gently before he enveloped it in his lips. He bit down on the sensitive bud, moaning before his tongue went to her cunt to taste her properly.

She pulled tight on the restraints around her wrists, trying to hold herself together as he started to eat her with an intensity that had her shaking. And he'd only just started.

He ate her, flicking his tongue against her clit before delving inside of her. He moaned loudly, burying his face into her, completely obsessed with how she felt and tasted. He sucked on her clit, circling and drilling his tongue against her.

She threw her head back, lost in the sensation of his mouth. Of how he moaned, adding a vibrating layer against her core. He pulled away, staring at her drenched cunt. She whimpered as he blew a stream of cool air against her clit, her legs shook and he gripped her hip to hold her steady.

He reached up, rubbing her nipple with his thumb and gathering some blood that he'd smeared there. He stared at his red thumb, in his head for a split second before he was decorating her clit with it. His brow furrowed, admiring it in awe.

She swore under her breath, reeling out of her mind. "You dirty fuck."

His eyes met hers, looking up through his eyelashes. "I'm just getting started." He assured before sucking her clit into his mouth, deftly tasting her and the blood.

He was pining to feel her on the inside, and put two fingers into his mouth to get them wet. Then he slid them into her hot cunt with a long sigh. She rippled around them, pulsing and desperate to be full of him.

He worked his mouth harder, faster. Sucking and nibbling on her clit until she could barely stand. Her head lulled back as she moaned, her arms pulling on the restraints, wishing she had fistfuls of his curls instead.

Green eyes flickered up to watch her, the red hue of the room igniting them both. She looked fucking phenomenal, her tits covered in blood, her nipples hard. His collar around her throat while she gasped out shamelessly.

But she wasn't looking at him. He wanted her eyes on him. Watching him as he fucked her with his mouth and fingers. No. He wanted her eyes. Wanted to see the look in them as she melted.

He reached up, yanking the chain attached to the collar harshly. She was forced to look down at him and she met his gaze immediately.

"Eyes on me, little devil."

He pumped his fingers, hooking them against her g-spot. She cried out, her legs buckling.

"There we go, how's that, hm? Attagirl." He praised, working her harder and harder until she was seeing stars, bleeding red and stark silver. His mouth was hot and wet around her clit, relentless and hungry.

Another group of people passed through the hallway, loud through the wood of the old door. She felt a flash of panic, a wild desire to have him now before it was too late. She could envision her friends scrambling to find her and ruin this before it had started.

She gasped out, taking in air sharply. "You have to fuck me."

He frowned, staring up at her. He hated to pull away "I'm not done."

"I need it so bad. Fuck me, make it hurt."

He growled, leaving a wet kiss on her cunt before standing. He towered over her, his lips and chin saturated from her. She reached out, licking her tongue along his chin to collect it. He groaned, so turned on. Just as he'd eaten her pussy, he kissed her messily. Wet and frantic, shameless and desperate. He broke the kiss, his bloody forehead against hers, panting. 

"You want my cock, little devil?"

"Yes, I need it."

He tugged on the chain of the collar again, wrapping it around his fist to bring her closer. His jaw was clenched as he spoke through his teeth. "Desperate little whore. Say please."

"Please," she begged, the collar tight around her neck as he pulled on it, "please fuck me. I want your cock inside me. Please."

He took a solid step back with a soft noise, reaching down to pop open the single button of his pants. She watched him in wonder, slowly undoing his pants as if putting on a show for her.

"You know...." His voice was low and she felt it in her core. "I've been hard all night. Drenched in blood, wondering who I'll find to play with and make a mess of."

His pants were undone, and he shed the layer of his jacket to reveal more of himself to her. Covered in tattoos, both arms fully sleeved, his torso inked with beautiful designs far too covered in blood to depict every one.

Two ferns framed his hips and she could have liquified into a puddle at the sight. She felt fucking feral, and suddenly wish she had her hands free so she could put them all over him.

He continued, his eyes intense on hers. "And then I saw you. Thriving on the fear of being alone, desperate for a thrill. You're such a good girl, I knew you'd take anything I gave you. Now you're going to take my cock however I wanna give it to you. Fill your cunt with it, make you choke on it. It's up to me and you'll fucking endure."

"Yes." She mewled.

Fuck, he was beautiful. Diabolical and hellish. She'd never been this turned on in her life and the violent hum between her legs grew stronger with every passing second. Like he kept her orgasm teetering on the edge as opposed to it melting away into nothing.

He peeled his pants down just enough to free his cock, standing away from his body and curving up. So long and thick, wet at the tip, wrapped in veins. And as she looked closer at his length, she just about lost it at the realisation of it.

He was wearing a fucking cock ring. A matte black circle wrapped around the base, his erection prominent and throbbing. So, he loved the chase a little more than he'd initially let on. He wore something to harness the excitement of the fear he instilled in others.

And what's more? He was proud of it.

Proud of how much he'd worked her up, how much he'd scared her, how much he owned her. How he got so turned on by it all. He was infernal, wicked, and cocky and she wondered how she'd survive this.

He played with himself, taking his cock in his fist with slow pulls.

"Fuck, wished it was your pussy wrapped around me. Wanted it the first second I saw you. Seeing the look of fear in your eyes as you realised you were trapped. Tell me that I scared you."

"You scared me so much. I was terrified."

"Petrified."

"I still am." She went with it, knowing that it did something to him. Honestly, it did a lot for her, too. She was well aware of the safe word they'd initiated at the start but it was the furthest thing on her mind.

"Look at you," he crooned, "shaking. Poor little thing."

She was losing her mind, her core spasming with the need to be fucking demolished by him. He was playing with her when all she needed was him. Right that second. He grabbed a condom from his jacket, discarded on the ground.

She didn't know what to say, but he seemed to enjoy the sound of his own voice, saying dirty things as the thoughts came to him.

"I'll make you wish you did a better job at running from me, little devil."

He lifted one of her legs, hitching it high up on his waist to open her up to him. Their gazes locked as he gripped his shaft, lining himself up to her warmth. He felt light headed with how hard he was and he knew they didn't have long before her friends came searching for her. There were only so many places to hide in this mansion—he would know.

He stretched her open with his cock, her walls clenching tight around his thickness. At this angle, she felt like she was being split in two in the most pleasurable way. He was so big, filling her so perfectly, so snug against the sweet spot inside of her with a delicious pressure.

His thrusts were slow at first, her cunt so tight as he pushed through. She grew accustomed to his size, her hands clawing at the chains. She heard screaming outside and kissed him, determined to feel him as intensely as she needed.

"Faster."

He obliged immediately, wanting to give her everything she needed. "Fuck, you feel unreal. This pretty little pussy- oh fuck, so good."

He felt out of it already, his mind clouded by her. She cried out as he took her harshly. Pounding her into the wall without a regard for it's integrity nor the sounds that were being made.

Fuck, she was loud. She enjoyed him. Enjoyed the chase, this game, the blood, the chains. Being at his mercy.

He'd wondered at first what she'd be like. Whether she'd be timid and shy, maybe even pretend she didn't want him. Completely brush away his game and go find her friends.

She'd needed to be chased. Hunted. Fucked.

She was flourishing with him inside of her, with him testing her limits and pushing her outside of her comfort zone. Enlaced in a luscious, ruddy cocoon of trust and danger. The two factors overwhelmingly present and balancing each other out.

His eyes darkened with every second as he watched her, addicted to the stakes that had been handed to them.

He screwed into her, pistoning his hips until she couldn't get a breath in. The chains jingled against the wall, and he gripped the one on the collar, just because he liked seeing it on her.

"You're my little fuck toy. Chained up with nothing to do but take my big cock. You're just dripping, aren't you? Getting me all wet, squeezing me like you're about to come."

She could feel the slow swirls of her orgasm flourish, already so close from his mouth and the high he'd essentially paused because she'd begged him to. Now he was easily building it back up right where he left her.

"Ask me to play with you."

"Please play with me."

"You need me to rub your clit? Is that what you need?"

"Holy shit, rub it, rub it oh-"

He gripped her chin, smearing blood on her lips before licking it off and spitting on her clit. She moaned at how fucking dirty he was, wondering how anything even surprised her at this point. His hand reached between them, rubbing above where they were connected in expert circles.

Her toes curled, turning numb as he pushed her towards her high. He gave her an encouraging look, pumping his hips at a blinding pace.

"Yeah? Gonna come? Fucking give it to me, little devil. Go on. Show me how my good girl comes all over my cock. There we go, fucking do it."

Her orgasm boiled deep and exploded fast. She felt it in every single nerve ending in her body, and the blood rushed to her ears so violently that she didn't even know how loud she was screaming. Her eyes screwed shut and she felt the collar tighten as he pulled on it.

With the force of it, her legs gave out and he picked her up, his hips not faltering as he wrapped her legs around his waist. He kept her pressed against the wall, taking her through her shattering orgasm that drenched his thighs, just about pushing his cock out with the burst of fluid that erupted around it.

"Fuck, you're squirting all over me and I'm the dirty one?" His voice had that condescending tone and she gasped as he jerked the chain on the collar. "Filthy bitch. Give me another one."

She was so overwhelmed, so sensitive from her orgasm and she looked bewildered at his demand. "I can't-"

"Yes, you fucking can."

He wasn't sure how long they'd been gone but her friends had to be growing concerned. Even getting lost on her own, she'd be found eventually. He wanted her there again. Coming on his dick. He was losing his mind over her and he'd fuck her twice as hard if it meant she'd get him wet all over again.

Placing her down on her shaking legs, he turned her, making sure her arms didn't get twisted in the chains. They were loose enough for him to turn her around with ease. He removed the cock ring with care, making sure the condom stayed in place. Her chest pressed against the wall, and he grabbed her hips with jeweled fingers, pulling her ass back so he could slide back into her.

He growled, slapping her ass so hard that his handprint formed. He spat on it, fucking her so hard she couldn't take a breath in. She near on sobbed, unable to handle how good he fucked. How he knew the exact angle and pace.

"Fuck- please, I-"

He grabbed her hair in a tight fist, bringing her head back so he could put his lips to her ear and spout his thoughts into it. "Can't handle it, baby? You wanna run?"

"N-No!"

"No, you love this cock. Fuckin' built to take all of me, I fill you up so perfectly. You ever been fucked like this? Bet you haven't, fucking gripping my cock like you've never been fucked this good."

She couldn't breathe properly, his thrusts so deep and hard that she could do nothing but take him. He was animalistic with how he fucked her, unrelenting. Making her endure.

He was right. She'd never been fucked this good. This raw and dirty and brazen. He knew he body so well, as if he'd been acquainted with it for longer than tonight. He knew exactly how to look after her, make her fucking fall apart for him.

She was close again, his cock massaging her g-spot so well, and he reached down, pressing his hand against her abdomen. So he could feel his cock demolish her from the inside out, and with the added pressure of his hand, she just about sobbed at how good it felt. His front pressed tight against her back, smearing blood.

There was a jostle against the door, maybe someone passing and wondering if the room was available to explore. He felt a dizzying rush to get her there again. He knew he himself wouldn't last long and he grit his teeth, pulling the chain on the collar until she gasped.

Her wrists were burning with how the chains had strained against her skin and she pulled at them desperately, needing her hands on him. "I need to touch you, please unchain me. Let me put my hands on you."

"Fuck."

He reached up to loosen the chains, freeing her hands. She wrapped one back around his neck, fisting his curls with a harsh first, pulling. His little devil, free of the restraints he had her in. She smacked the other hand to the wall, clawing at the wallpaper as she took the onslaught of his cock. Crying out, so overwhelmed by him.

"I want you to fucking cry for me." He snarled. "Scared little whore, get wet on my cock again."

His hand slipped south, getting her clit again. She cried out, her legs threatening to crumble beneath her but he held her up.

"Oh fuck."

"That's it. Give it to me, little devil. Fucking come all over me."

"Right there, harder please please don't stop."

"Yeah? Like that?"

"Yes, so good." She sobbed.

He fucked her harder, his hand pulling on the collar so that her head was resting on his shoulder. He kissed her, sucking on her tongue while he drove her to the brink of bliss. He growled, biting her tongue while his fingers swirled against her clit. She was so blissed out, dripping blood from where he'd decorated her with it.

"Dirty fuckin' slut, covered in blood while I destroy your cunt."

Her eyes were solely on him as he took her, and his hand melted from the chain to her jaw, cupping it harshly before slapping her cheek. The sharp sting ignited something inside of her and setting her off.

Her orgasm was just as wet as the first, explosive and shattering. She screamed out, her jaw dropped in euphoria and he took the opportunity to spit on her tongue. She swallowed mindlessly, humming as he kissed her. She shook violently, relying on him to hold her up.

He turned her around as she came down, her legs wrapped around his waist. He slipped his hand down, taking her warmth again. He slammed his hips into her, his cock pulsing inside of her, threatening to release at how good she felt.

"You feel so good," he growled through his teeth, "so wet and desperate for me. Letting me do whatever the fuck I want to you. Chase you, chain you up and use you. You made a fucking mess, little devil. Flooding my cock when you come- fuck, so sexy."

His thrusts became staggered, his body tingling as his orgasm brewed. He pulled away, his abs flexing as he pounded into her. She scratched down his shoulders and chest, smearing blood, maybe even drawing some of his own. She couldn't tell.

He kissed her, messy and wet, grabbing a hold of the collar where it was tight around her neck and using every ounce of strength he had to fucking destroy her. She shouted at how rough he took her in those last few moments before his orgasm hit.

"Wait, wai-"

"What?" He yelled, vexed and not stopping.

"Finish in me, fill me with your cum. I'm clean, I'm on the pill. Tell me you're clean and come inside me." Her tone was desperate and panicked, and he didn't stop taking her. Her suggestion had him near on fucking spiralling. Like she needed him to claim her just as much as he did.

"F-Fuck, I'm clean."

He placed her on her wobbly legs, removing the condom and grabbing her leg to hitch it high on his hip. She felt even more unreal without the disruption of the latex and he screwed into her hard and fast, first chasing her, now chasing his high.

She gasped at the intensity of him, clawing at his arms to keep steady. He growled out dirty shit that made her blush. Telling her how tight she was, how he wanted to fuck her again, chain her up again and fuck her throat.

He told her how he'd wanted to destroy her the second he laid eyes on her. He commented on her deadly corset and the tiny skirt she'd worn. Those fucking devil horns on her head. His collar wrapped around her throat, hidden by his hand as he choked her.

The lights strobed electric red, her eyes wide in awe as he became almost animalistic with how his orgasm rocked through him. He rumbled out moans, deep and rolling as his cum filled her trembling cunt.

"Yes, good fucking girl. Take me all, take every fucking drop." His voice was so fucking deep that she felt the low octave in the walls. He was everywhere. Like he encapsulated the mystery and terror of the whole house. Becoming one with it.

He buried his head into her neck, biting into the leather of the collar as his high subsided. Milky and dreamy wisps of it licking at the outer edges of him, melting into sweet nothings.

They clung to each other, the reality of what had just happened setting in. Crimson, heavy metal chains and unabashed pleasure and explorations.

She sank to her knees, taking his softening cock into her mouth and holding him there. Sucking off his cum as it leaked from her cunt. Cleaning him and thanking him with her mouth. He groaned as she buried him down her throat, her nose pressed into the dark hair at the base of his cock.

He revelled in her warmth, allowing her to hold his spent cock in her mouth for a time. He felt cherished by her. And she loved the taste of him.

As if they needed the reminder of where they were, the door handle jiggled as someone tried to enter, though quickly giving up and moving on.

She was brought back to her senses, and knew she'd been missing for far too long.

"You should leave." He spoke, pulling away to stare at her. It was as if he'd been reading her thoughts. But he didn't plan on getting caught tonight. He'd pushed his luck being with her as long as he had.

She felt disorientated. She wasn't sure how long she'd been with him. Like it had been fleeting yet eternal at the same time.

Her corset wasn't easy to salvage, and she used as much of what remained of the ribbon to keep it closed before pulling her skirt back on. When she faced him again, he was fully dressed in his leather suit, his mask placed back over his face. The façade recovered, as if it had never been removed.

He disconnected the chain from her neck and wrapped it around his wrist, and as she reached for the collar to remove it, he stopped her.

"Keep it, little devil."

She raised a brow. "What, like some sort of souvenir?"

He leaned in close to her ear, his voice deep and muted behind the mask. "Maybe I'll find you and take it back one day."

Her mind was staggered and cloudy and somehow he made sense. Like she'd need the reminder. Maybe slip on the collar during those times when she'd wish it was his hand instead.

He unlocked the door, and she could hear commotion around the house that hadn't stopped since she'd been chained up. He didn't follow her, instead moving to stand by the window.

"You were right."

"About what?"

"You do make hell look like heaven. But your hell felt heavenly."

He didn't respond, but she knew he'd be giving her a lopsided smirk. A cocky one that told her that her words fuelled that ego of his. She slipped into the hallway, trying to navigate the maze and find her way back to the entrance.

She could hear screaming, and that wasn't unusual. But these screams were piercing. Deeper than a shock or sudden fright. These were screeches of pain and terror.

The house was easier to decipher once she wasn't being chased, and she noticed that the hallways were empty now. She reached the hallway that led to the grand staircase, and with the fiery strobe of the building, saw hints of flashing blue that told her something wasn't right.

She turned, her eyes finding the entrance wide open. Crowds were strangling the throat of the door, commotion and disturbance abundant in every soul. The source of the additional lights came from a few police cruisers outside, and she spied officers questioning people tucked to the side of the room.

Her friends called out to her, beyond relieved that she was safe. She should have felt the same but she was perplexed. What the fuck was going on? Why were there police here? In the middle of nowhere?

"What's going on?" She asked once they'd hugged her and berated her on her whereabouts. She avoided all questions, far too caught up in what was happening around her.

"A couple of girls found two dead employees in the attic."

"What?"

"Yeah, they thought they were acting. Slashed throats, apparently. Lots of blood."

Before she could press for further information, everyone was ushered outside by the authorities. She felt numb. She should have been terrified, panicked. Anything. But the overall shock of the night was making her mind murky. She couldn't fathom this. Two people had been fucking killed in the same house that she'd been wondering around alone in.

Slashed throats. Lots of blood.

And here she was, unable to tell her friends where her collar came from and unable to say where she'd been all that time.

As they found themselves outside, she stared back at the house as if it were a monster. Swallowing lives, winding mazes with mystery and paradox. As if every piece of wood and brick and plaster that made up its rooms, hidden entrances and dead ends was to blame.

Had he taken their lives, and then played with hers?

She stared up, finding the window of the room she'd been chained up in. And he was there. The silhouette of his menacing figure prominent, for her eyes alone. A cop approached her, wary of the glassy look in her eyes.

"Every other worker and visitor is accounted for, boss." Another cop said lowly to him, and she watched them exchange looks.

He flashed a torch on her face, trying to capture her attention but she wasn't entirely present. He narrowed his eyes, thinking she was perhaps in shock.

"Did you see anything tonight, ma'am? Anything suspicious or unusual?"

Her eyes flickered back up to the window. He was gone. A fleeting mirage. A phantom of her desires. The touch of his blade more real than he was, cutting her open and spilling out her inhabitations until she was his.

"No, sir. I didn't see anything."

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