“Who the fuck are you?” The heavy metal music blasting through the school drowns out his words, but I can just make them out.
I lean down to lower my body on top of him, my urge winning against my confused hard-on as I press my cock against his ass, letting go of his nape and grabbing his hair.
Fuck.
Fuck me, why does this feel so right?
I push my cock against him harder, ignoring the way he’s kicking his legs and telling me to get the fuck off him. He’s strong, and I struggle a little to stay in position as I reachbetween him and the floor, grinning when my hand grabs his raging hard cock.
Blaise Rowle gets off on the chase.
Squeezing his cock, I thrust against him, fighting a moan. He’s still trying to get free from me, even though his movements push him against my cock and his cock into my hand.
“Such a good fucking boy,” I whisper in his ear, keeping my voice low and undetected.
His elbow flies back and connects with my mask, nearly knocking it off me. I quickly stand to fix it, feeling some of the plastic snapped around my eye and cheek.
Blaise hurries to his feet, his cock tenting his pants as his chest rises and falls, before he turns and takes off running again.
“Such a good fucking boy.”
Fuck me dead. Those whispered words and the anger they evoked when he used them as a weapon to taunt me drove me mad, but not only that—desire licked over my heated skin beneath my soaked clothes.
Trapped in my pants, my cock pulses as I sprint down the hallway like my life depends on it, pushing myself more than I ever have on the football field.
My boots thunder on the floor, and my legs pump harder and faster. Beneath the consuming fear and anticipation burns a fire that sets me alight. I’m alive.
I go flying around the corner, colliding with the wall opposite, my shoulder taking the brunt of the impact. The pain barely registers. My head already throbs from the blow that sent me flying into the swimming pool. I didn’t see it coming, and that’s what’s so fucking thrilling. I felt his hard dick grind against my ass back there, his fingers twitching in my hair, the barely restrained control behind every breath.
Expecting him close on my heel, I throw a quick glance behind me, and my heart rate spikes to dangerous levels when I find the hallway empty. I skid to a halt, spinning around. Wherethe fuck is he? I swear he was behind me seconds ago. Music blares, throbbing in my veins. I slowly back up against the wall, scanning the dark hallway while trying to catch my breath.
My attacker is aroused by the chase, and the small flicker of doubt of not knowing what his true intentions are sets me on fire. What does he want with me? How far will he take this? Who the fuck is he?
I swipe my damp sleeve across my eyes to wipe the blood away as my heart thrashes. I might need stitches.
“Jesus,” I whisper, closing my eyes and wincing when another sharp stab of pain sears my skull. He didn’t hold back when he knocked me down.
No, focus, dammit.
Shaking my head, blood pouring in a steady stream from a cut on my eyebrow, I push off the wall and continue down the hallway, glancing behind me every few seconds.
He’s nowhere in sight, and I soon find out why when I turn the next corner.
Moonlight streaks through the window beside him, bathing his imposing form in an ethereal glow as he watches me from behind his mask.
I’m unsteady on my feet, dizzy from the blow, and he cocks his head, intrigued.
I sway, trying to focus, but it’s difficult when I see two of him.
Tightening his grip on the hockey stick in his hand, he steps toward me, and I inch back, cursing my fucking dick for twitching at the sight of the weapon in his hand—the damage it can do if he catches me.
Focus, Blaise.
I need to remove his mask somehow. Expose his identity so that I can destroy him for thinking he could threaten me without consequences.
His blurring shape morphs again, splitting from two into three before merging back into one. I chuckle as I stumble back, blood stinging my eyes. I’m so fucking screwed. But hey, that’s what makes it so damn exciting, right? Very few things in life thrill me, and this masked man might be as unhinged as I am.
I extend my arm, pointing at him, and flash a feral smile. “Catch me if you can, fucker.” Spinning around, I run in the opposite direction, flying down the next corridor, ignoring the stabbing pain in my skull and the burning muscles in my thighs.
