How did he manage to stop just then? He wasn’t a machine. I hadn’t mistaken what I’d seen in his eyes and the heat I’d felt from his mouth. He wanted me, didn’t he?

I let out a sigh, trying to get my breathing to even out.

Circling, circling, circling…He pulled, I pulled. He pushed, I pushed. We fought and played, toyed and challenged, but he never gave in. We never came together, fused, and seized what was there.

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.

Moving down his neck, I left soft, urgent kisses and grazed his skin with my nose, smelling his body wash. Like spice and man, and I nudged my head in more, forcing his neck to arch back as I kissed his throat, trailing the tip of my tongue up to his jaw.

“Rika,” he warned in a hard voice.

But I didn’t care.

I could hear his heavy breathing through his mask, and for a moment, I thought he was going to stop me, but I sucked in a surprised breath he hoisted me up and slammed me into the wall again, holding me tighter.

“Fuck,” he gritted out.

His hand slid down between our bodies, and I let out a moan, flattening my back against the wall and giving him room as he unfastened his belt and jeans.

Hell yes.

Reaching down with one hand, I pulled my tank top over my head, throwing it to the floor.

I tightened my hold around his neck and pressed my naked breasts against this black sweatshirt.

He worked quickly, his greedy hand slipping under the lace of my pink panties and pulling them, ripping them clean off my body.

He then grabbed hold of his cock, taking it out of his jeans and positioning his hips just right.

“So you like the mask. You’re pretty fucking sick, aren’t you?” he teased.

I nodded, a smile peeking out. “Yes.”

He stroked my bare pussy with the head of his dick, dragging it up and down my slit.

“Just like me,” he whispered.

And then he thrusted his hips between my thighs, and I cried out as he slid his thick cock, inch by inch, inside of me, burying himself in my wet pussy.

“Oh, God,” I panted, arching my back. “You’re so hard.”

My skin was stretched, and it hurt a little, but it was too fucking good, too. His tip rubbed so deep up inside me I could feel him in my stomach.