12. Max

M y heart is beating so fast, I fear it might burst through my ribcage any second. That was probably the best orgasm I've... wait, scratch that, that was the most incredible orgasm of my life. I've never had anyone, and I mean anyone, make me come that hard and that fast before. The moment his fingers pushed into me, I felt full, like there was no room for more.

When I thought he left me like this I was ready to stab him the next chance I got. Don't get me wrong, I'm still fucking furious at the tall prick for teasing me, but the memory of his tongue over my sensitive core and how he pushed me further and further into the abyss, will forever be ingrained onto my skin until the day I die .

No one on this planet will top that, but I hope he doesn't think he's getting away with it that easy. The press of his lips when kissing the skin on my ass as he finished off was a lot more sensual than I think he intended it to be. I hate that he made me forget for a split second that I wasn't normal. That I'm not a fucked-up mess.

Gathering my thoughts and working to slow down my ragged breathing, I watch him. His own heavy breathing mingling with mine as he takes a leisurely stroll around the fucking medieval stocks that he forced me into.

Draven then crouches in front of me.

His mouth and lower jaw glistening with my release after making me do something no one ever has, let alone been able to do myself. The fucker made me squirt and I'm talking gushing. When he told me not to hold my bladder, I thought the asshole was asking me to piss on him. I'm into a lot of things but waterworks, yeah, no.

"So perfect." He breathes, the words make my gut clench, because I'm not and I really doubt the fucker would give a shit about my past or current trauma. "Now clean up your mess."

My eyes broaden slightly at the demand, and a delicious sensation erupts over my skin for the second time tonight.

It's as though this son of a bitch opened my diary and read all the things I wanted to act out sexually. By the smirk on his face, it seems as though he thinks I won't do it and considering I'm still stuck in this wooden torture device, I can't get closer. I want to, I've never tasted myself before and after what he just gave me, why would I ever say no to his request?

"I can't reach." I soften my voice, pressing my teeth into the skin on my lower lip, biting down to give myself some form of feeling, other than arousal. Reaching up, he presses the metal lock on the side of the stock and lifts the wood panel high enough so I'm able to slide my head and both wrists out.

With jeans still bunched round my ankles, I drop to my knees, as close to him as humanly possible. My legs are like Bambi right now, the muscles in my thighs and hamstrings involuntarily shaking and I can tell he's really enjoying the reaction to what he's just done. The hay pinching into the skin on my knees, but I don't care. Raising my hands slowly on either side of his face, I pause.

"Can I?" I whisper softly, words failing me because I'm totally transfixed by the way he's staring down at me, and this time, I really see it. I'm nothing but his prey.

Saying nothing, he nods ever so slightly, allowing me the right to touch him. Sliding my hands over the slightly stubbled skin on his jaw, he watches with uncertainty, his beautiful grey eyes, focused on mine, patiently waiting to see if I will go through with his request.

He rests one of his forearms on a bent knee, making us both eye level for once. Leaning in, I flatten my tongue against my lower lip and drag it agonizingly slow up his jawline. Licking the salty sweet release of my cum from his face. I'm more impressed by the way I taste than anything else.

The short stubble of his five o'clock shadow, brushing along my tongue. I make a habit of gliding it over every part of his face that may have encountered my release. The ball of my tongue bar running over every single inch of his skin that I can reach.

" Une si bonne fille." He speaks against my tongue as I glide it over the seam of his lips. Capturing it in his mouth, he sucks my release from it. He doesn't kiss me though, surprisingly. The slight touch of his finger shatters my core again, the moment it begins to slide it up my thigh.

Leaning back slightly, Draven presses his hand to his knee and stands as straight as he can, in a room that's not really made for someone of his stature. Bending, he slides both hands under my armpits, hoisting me up to stand like I weigh absolutely nothing.

Raising a brow at me, he speaks. "Get dressed."

Still refusing to talk, I hook my fingers through the loops on the waist of the jeans and pull them up and over my ass. Shimmying them into the right position, I grimace at the fact that the crotch area is wet as fuck, and I'm so fucking happy I wore dark jeans tonight.

"Gross," I hum in disapproval. I hate how wet fabric feels against the skin. One of my pet peeves. Securing my jeans around my waist, Draven just stands there, watching me with what looks like slight curiosity. Once I feel somewhat ok, I look at him properly then, craning my neck up at an ungodly angle.

Jesus is this what it feels like for him when he has to constantly be hunched over all the time.

Draven raises his head and nods to the camera in the corner of the room. I whip my head from the camera back to him immediately and the smirk on his lips pisses me off even more.

"They better not have—"

"Blind spot, calme-toi."

I don't care about what just happened with a man I barely know, but I care about people watching or even recording it. I'm not here for the entertainment of others. With one last look, the door to the room quickly slides open to my left, smacking back into the hole in the wall, making me jump back slightly, hitting his chest .

I feel his lips brush against my ear as those all too familiar words sail from his lips; "Run, mon Petit Mouton." And this time, when he says those words, I listen. And if one thing's for sure, this won't be the last time I see him tonight. I'll make sure of it.

I just need to find the Green Goblin.

After what seemed like forever in that stupid fucking scare attraction, I finally make my way out of the back door of the building. There's three exits to this place and, yet again , I have absolutely no idea where the fuck my little posse is. What I do know, is I'm telling Sasha everything as soon as we get back to the house.

She's going to go absolutely crazy but at the same time, I know she will scream and ask all the questions she can. Because, allowing someone to touch me sexually in such a way that Draven did, it's slightly out of my nature, but he makes me want these things.

I also made a serious mental note to learn something in French, just for the fun of seeing the look on his face. Deciding to just yet again, go on my own little hunt to meet back up with my friends, the moment I round the corner, I'm slammed into the ridges of the slate paneling.

The connection against the back of my head is brutal, and the pain in my arm from the tight grip wrapped around it makes me wince in pain. It will definitely be leaving a bruise.

"What do we have here?" The voice coming from the person who stands directly in front of me, makes me shiver and not in the good kind of way. The low gravel tone makes him sound like he's smoked fifty cigarettes a day. "A sweet… little… treat." Cranking my neck, I meet the eyeline of someone nearly as big as my Big Guy.

Not mine, just Big Guy.

With silvery white hair and random tattoos placed over his neck and face, I know exactly who this is.

"I've already been chosen." I've never spoken so quick before in my life. His grip on me only becoming tighter, and the circulation in my arm spreading pins and needles to my fingers. Leaning in, he purposefully runs his nose up the crook of my neck to the part just under the earlobe and I grimace.

The sound of his breath in my ear is so loud, the smell of him forms a lump in my throat, it's a familiar scent that I know all too well. The hair on the back of my neck and scalp standing on edge, telling me that this man… isn't a good one.

Tilting my head back, he mimics my action, and I glare at him.

"I wonder what you taste like, sweet one. By the scent of your arousal between your legs, I'd say perfection." The words breathe into my ear, and I already want to vomit.

"I've. Been. Chosen." I growl, trying to yank my arm free from his grasp. I'm grinding my teeth so forcefully that I'll wear them down to the root before I know it, if gangster Santa don't piss off. Stepping back, he yanks me toward him yet again, and I hit his chest, as he drags me away from the attraction.

This man has the strength of a fucking gorilla.

"Get the fuck off me, Pot-Belly!" I've already had enough of this asshole, and I've only been in his presence for a few minutes.

"Ahh," he chuckles softly, "I do love that you know who I am."

"Yeah, you're the dead man Draven will be getting rid of." With that, he bursts into laughter. The sound vibrating through my entire body. Looking around, the music is so loud from the outside of the attraction, it's impossible for anyone to hear this exchange.

"Well, well…" Baring his teeth in a foul smile, he leans in further. "Important enough for him to tell you his name. That's new, even for him." Shrugging, he leans back, pulling me flush with him once more. His lips glide over the shell of my ear. "He'll do no such thing. Not if I convince him first that it was you that made the choice to find me ."

"Fuck you asshole." I spit the words in his direction. Raising my leg, I kick my foot, the heel connecting with his knee.

"You stupid bitch!"

I don't see it coming until pain radiates from the side of my cheek the second he blindsides me with a fierce backhand.

I hit the dirt at his feet, instantly raising my hand to the thumping area of pain at the side of my face. My ears ringing from the force of the smack. Sucking back the ache in a deep and shaky breath, I roll onto my back. Propping myself up with my elbows positioned behind my back, he steps forward. A large black booted foot either side of my waist.

"The fuck is going on here!?"

"Nothing that concerns you, Lephee!" Pot-Belly groans above me.

Yes! Saved by the Leprechaun.

"I think you'll find it does when Grim has already chosen the woman you seem to have attacked." Angling my head back, I watch him pace leisurely to the middle of the attraction, where he crosses his arms and leans back against it. "You want reminding of what happened to Midnight in Nebraska, when he tried to pull the shit you are? "

His eyes flicker with fury, narrowing them to the man behind me. "Fine." I look back at Pot-Belly in disgust, glad to have been saved by the leprechaun himself. "I'll see you tomorrow sweet treat." The corner of his lip curling in satisfaction before he takes a large step over me.

"Bitch!" I shout.

"You're quite the hot commodity this weekend," Lephee laughs, walking over to me and extending his hand to help me up. I take it, allowing him to assist me up.

"To be honest I was actually coming to find you, Green Goblin." I say, dusting the dirt from my sobbing wet jeans. Ruined, great.

"It's Lephee, Max," he groans, dropping his head forward.

"Hm, yeah, I don't care." I'm only interested in saying one man's name correctly and he'll no doubt find me soon, so we need to make this quick.

Pinching the bridge of his nose he sighs. Even though the pain radiating from my cheek begs me to stop, the mischievous upturn of the left corner of my mouth says otherwise.

"I need a favor that relates to Grim."

Shaking his head, he looks up to the sky. "I don't like where this is going."