Hunted for Halloween

Chapter 1

Chapter One

AURORA

B obby’s Monster Mash draws closer as my Ford Mustang approaches the Corn Maze. The thumping bass of the music almost pulls me out of my sour mood as I pull my car over amidst the procession of cars that line the vast clearing surrounding the maze.

“Bitch, you quit the job, remember? They didn't fire you, so wipe that look off your face. It's Halloween!” My best friend Lydia shrieks, putting away her cherry lip gloss.

Her dark hair is tucked perfectly in place by her cute Catwoman mask. The black mask matches the slutty leather bodysuit that molds against her slim curves and flaunts her cleavage generously.

“I'm not sulking!” I defend myself with a huff. It took a lot for me to come to terms with the career path I wanted to pursue. It led me to quitting my job as an editor for one of the biggest fashion magazines in the country.

“Yeah, right.” Lydia snorts, her glossed nude lips twitching in distaste.

“I don't know, Lydia. What if I made the wrong decision? Maybe?—”

“Hold that thought,” she sits upright, narrowing her hazel eyes on me. “You have wanted to be a designer for as long as I can remember, but you spent way too much time in your head to come to terms with that. Now that you do, you are going to tear yourself down for doing what's best for you?” I can't see it but I know she's definitely arching a brow at me right now, her lips curled in a frown.

I exhale, knowing she's right. “I'm sorry.”

“Girl, you love Halloween! Everything else should be secondary right now. Now, wipe that gloomy look off your face and let's go party.” She nudges my shoulder with hers, and I giggle.

Halloween is my favorite day of the year and while my life seems like it's on fire right now, I'd rather focus on a night mashed with horror and angst as the perfect escape.

“Hell, yeah.” I agree, whipping out my red lipstick. Lydia yells excitedly as I touch up my blood red lipstick, glancing at myself in the mirror.

I pull off the sexy nurse appearance perfectly, and it makes me grin. My platinum blonde hair is snatched to the back of my head in a neat ponytail.

The stiff starched white cap with a red cross on it pins my hair backwards. The design on the cap matches the one on my short pleated nurses’ dress that barely covers the crack of my ass. It has a red taping surrounding its neckline that plunges downwards, showing off my cleavage.

There's nothing professional about the outfit. It's outrightly slutty, and that's exactly how I want it.

“Here,” Lydia leans her body forward, her hands adjusting my neckline to show more of my tits, eliciting a giggle from me. Then, she straps my glittery silver mask on my face.

I wanted a sprinkle of mystery in my costume. Hence, the reason I opted for a mask.

Lydia and I squeal in excitement, letting ourselves out of the car.

The corn maze sprawls out before us with vibrant spooky decor. The entrance is decorated with skulls, pumpkins and gothic dolls hanging on what seems like a spike that holds the sign board up in the air. The Devil's Lair is boldly inscribed on the wooden sign. Intricate golden lights are woven through the entire maze, giving it a shimmering appearance that's outright blunted by the creepy smiley face pumpkins that are placed strategically.

The premises is buzzing with people clad in different costumes, their boots and cheers nearly overshadowing the loud music.

“Wanna heal me, sexy nurse?!” a guy in a joker costume hollers at me as Lydia and I venture into the corn maze, holding hands.

Lydia gags.

“I don't do clowns!” I yell back without looking over my shoulder.

The roaring laughter behind us fades into the music as we take another turn by a pumpkin sign. It's hard weaseling our way through the maze because it's really crowded. I couldn't have been more grateful when Lydia fetched us beers.

“I think he's staring at you.” I grin, taking a sip of my beer as I stylishly nod my head in the direction of a guy in a ghost face costume, hanging out with his friends. It's obvious he's zoning out of the conversation because of how intently he's staring at my best friend.

A girly shriek tears through the air. I suppress a flinch when I realize that it's probably some people fooling around.

“Who?” Lydia stops taking pictures on her phone. She turns around, looking in the opposite direction. A faint blush explodes on her neck, widening my grin.

“Damn, he is ripped,” Lydia drawls under her breath.

“I know, right?” I murmur in response.

“I'm going to go talk to him.” Lydia announces and my eyes widen.

“Lydia!”

“Don't wander off too far,” she smirks at me as she sashays towards the guy and his friends.

I groan, downing the rest off my beer and tossing the bottle somewhere. I'm not going to laze around and watch my best friend get her face eaten off by some guy. The thought of it makes me gag as much as it makes me blush.

The music grows louder as I weasel my way deeper through the maze. I hear some breathy moans behind a bunch of cornflowers, causing me to scrunch my face in disgust.

That's when I feel it.

An icy sensation that causes the hair on my nape to stand erect. It feels like I'm being watched. I want to shrug it off and chalk it up to my imagination, but it grows more intense.

My breathing catches. I look over my shoulder sharply and the entire maze shrinks into oblivion when I see a large, masked, muscular figure standing at the entrance of one of the turns in the maze.

There's no ounce of subtlety and shyness in his rigid, imposing posture. It's like he wants me to see him, to know that he's been watching me. I should find it creepy, but it makes my ears and cheeks burn hot.

Suddenly, he turns around, stalking off.

I don't know whether it's curiosity or fascination but I find my feet moving in his direction. My heart thumps loudly in my chest as I follow the trail, tuning out the rest of the maze.

Aside from the twinkling golden lights that seem to have run dim, this side of the maze has no one in sight. I whirl around, hoping to catch a glimpse of anyone but there's none. The only lingering sound is the music that has now grown distant.

It feels like my mind is playing tricks on me because I was certain I saw him around here.

“Are you lost, Pumpkin?”

I tense, my nerves tingling with a mix of fear and anticipation. The voice of whiskey and sin travels through the air, deep, husky and melts against my skin like a forbidden desire.

My heart thunders in my chest, almost as though it wants to crack my chest wide open. I don't stop to weigh my options because I turn around instantly.

His costume is indiscernible, save for the edgy, black and gold rimmed mask on his face. The dim golden light hits the skin of his face, allowing me to take in the stubble beard that runs through the side of his strong face, down to his perfectly squared jawline that looks like it's carved from a rock. Even with the mask, his features are harsh, dark and intimidating.

It makes my toes curl.

His dark crew neck tee stretches against the hard ridges of his broad muscular chest. The sleeves are hardly staying in place because of his bulging biceps. The man looks sinfully ripped and his outfit is doing nothing to hide it. The back of his large veiny palms are inked with dark tattoos that form the shape of licks of flames, some of his fingers adorned with rings.

The little distance between us feels like it's quenched by the heat that engulfs me under his gaze. His whiskey eyes caress every inch of my body. It makes me clench my thighs together to satiate the tingling sensation in my core. My buds pebble against the cotton material of my dress, my mouth running dry.

What the fuck is this?

His stance shifts, and that should alert me to move my legs and get out of this place. But, it doesn't. I stand rooted to a spot like a statue. My heart pounds wildly in my chest as he prowls forward like a lazy large black cat accessing its prey.

“You were watching me.” I manage to force the words out.

“Yet, you sought me out.” There's a dry undertone in his voice but he also can’t take his eyes off me.

My throat thins out, my eyes widening a fraction when he closes in on me. A shudder snakes down my spine, making my legs wobbly but his heated stare pins me to the spot.

“Do you know what happens to curious little pumpkins like you?” his scent, cedarwood and musk coils around my nostrils and I inhale greedily. I shake my head like a little girl, my mouth running dry when my gaze drops to his thick, sensual lips.

“They become prey for predators like me.” The dark edge in his sinful voice licks my skin with flames that shoot straight to my core, ruining my lace panties.

His aura is dark and stormy. It wraps around my neck like an invisible noose and it should scare me. But, it doesn't. Instead, it piques my excitement.

My chest rises and falls with harsh breaths when he brings his fingers to my face. His long, veiny fingers hover over my face. My eyes flutter shut, my lips parting when he brushes them against my skin. The heat that coils in my abdomen rapidly makes me dizzy, and I almost stagger backwards.

A rough, large palm cups the small of my back to keep me in place. A tiny moan rips through the air, causing my eyes to open. It dawns on me that the sound comes from me. His hold on me is coarse and unapologetic, searing through the fabric of my dress.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs.

Then, he slowly runs his thumb over my parted lips, dipping two fingers into my mouth. He stares down at me with darkened whiskey eyes as I suck on his fingers, releasing low, thirsty sounds.

“I'm going to give you two options, Pumpkin,” he begins, pulling my tiny body flush against his without enough force that my aching breasts crush against the hard ridges of his chest.

I gasp when his breath hits the shell of my ear, sprouting goosebumps all over my body.

“You can turn around now and run far away from me, pretend as if you never met me. Or you could stay and I'll do what I want with you.” His tone dips low and suggestive, eliciting a harsh swallow from me. “What's it going to be, Pumpkin?”

Voice like whiskey and sin. Hard muscles. Cedarwood and musk scent. Whiskey eyes. They are all rolled into one fatal combination that's actively turning the wheels in my head.

My vision slowly blurs in ecstasy, my lips gaping open when he pushes one of his rough hands up my thigh, hiking up my short dress.

“W-what are you going to do to me?” I can't resist asking him, hating how breathless I sound.

In all my twenty-seven years that I have been on this earth, no man has ever wrenched out raw, unhinged emotions like these from me. It's strange, addictive and consuming.

“You have ruined your panties, Pumpkin. Such a dirty girl.” He glides his fingers over my soaked lace panties, causing me to jerk in his arms and clench my fist in the material of his shirt.

A rush of hunger mixed with embarrassment sweeps through me. I feel so embarrassed to be so wet for some creepy muscular stranger I met in a corn maze on Halloween . I feel dirty, but I can't deny that I want him to put out the fire he has set ablaze between my thighs.

His hand moves up my neck, veiny fingers digging through my hair and fisting it in a shameless, possessive grip that makes my cunt pulse when he tugs on it. The movement tilts my head backwards, locking my needy gaze with his dark ones as he strokes me through my underwear.

“Please, daddy.” The plea unfurls from my lips before I can stop myself.

His jaw clenches, an edgy lust flickering in his eyes. “What did you just call me?” he growls out those words, messing up my underwear even more.

Fuck. Where did that even come from?

“Daddy,” I repeat, biting my lip shyly.

“Don't you ever call me anything else, do you understand?” His voice is huskily harsh as he shifts my underwear to the side.

I nod my head, arching my body into him, desperate for his touch.

“Use your words, Pumpkin.” he pinches my clit, slapping my pussy. I drench his fingers with my wetness, a long moan expelling from my mouth.

“Yes, daddy.”

I hop to my tiptoes when he slides a finger into my dripping cunt. It's not as though it's my first time getting fingered, but having a large veiny finger push into me without warning makes me feel like I'm being stretched to my full capacity.

“Fuck, your pretty little pussy is welcoming me home.” His fingers dig harder into my hair. “You are making a mess on my fingers, Pumpkin.” He says huskily, retracting his finger from my tight folds and thrusting it into me again.

I grab onto his shirt, moaning loudly. My legs shake as my pussy swallows his finger with every thrust he makes in and out of me. He looks like a fucking sex god with his masked face, those whiskey eyes honing on me, glinting with a devilish edge. His finger goes in and out of me in torturous strokes, and when he adds one more, wrenching out a shaky moan from me.

“Ah…there, right there…”

“Here?”

He curls them inside me, hitting my sensitive spot with every thrust. I flush against him, burying my face into his chest to muffle my loud moans. My body quakes with ecstasy , my eyes threatening to drift shut because of the unhinged pleasure he's offering me with his fingers. His scent envelopes me, trailing shivers down my spine. I have never been in the proximity of a man who smells so masculine and seductively intense in such a dark way. It's intriguing, maddening, even.

Just like the way he fucks me into oblivion with his fingers.

“You are going to come for me pumpkin, aren't you?” he drags out a ragged breath, his palm coming down to the small of my back to keep me in place as he leans in to bury his face into my neck.

He nips at my neck, hard.

“Yes, daddy.” I whimper, soiling his shirt with my saliva.

The fact that someone can hear my cries of pleasure doesn't stop me from releasing them. They are loud, strange and embarrassing and it's hard to resonate with the fact that it's a man I don't know who's driving me crazy with his fingers.

“Such a good fucking girl.” He grunts into my neck, nibbling on the sensitive spot as he scissors his fingers inside me, pushing down on my clit with his thumb.

“Oh, God.” My orgasm rocks through me, eliciting a deafening moan from me as I shatter all over his fingers like a fucking whore.

As the lustful haze slowly clears off with me breathing heavily into his chest, he smooths his palm over my blonde hair, pressing a soft kiss to it like he's telling me that I just did well.

It makes me blush so hard.

But then, it dawns on me that I just got fingered by a stranger in a corn maze. I couldn’t help but tell my bestie before going home.