Made For You

Ch. 30: Luce Mia

Sofia

The horror house isn't scary because of its makeshift ghosts. The fright lies in the maze it leads to which is built at the center of the structure. When he asks me to run, I run for that.

It is just a game. Why do I feel like I am running for my life?

I race through the disorienting corridors, my breaths shallow, quick, matching the rapid beat of my heart as I navigate the labyrinth's twists and turns, desperately seeking a hiding spot.

A single, ominous bar of the labyrinth appears ahead. It is my makeshift sanctuary. I slip behind it, press my back against the cool surface, and hold my breath.

My pulse reverberates in my ears as I peer cautiously around the edge of the metal structure.

There, in the subdued light, I spot him—a silhouette weaving through the haunting maze. His determined pursuit fuels my adrenaline, and the anticipation of him being near, yet oblivious to my presence, sends a shiver down my spine.

As he draws closer, I press myself further into the shadows, heart pounding, willing him not to notice me. The flickering lights cast eerie shadows around him, creating a surreal tableau. I watch with bated breath as he passes, his footsteps echoing through the haunted labyrinth, unaware of the hidden figure observing him from the shadows.

I cling to the hope that the one bar separating us will be my ticket to victory—any victory against him is worth a medal.

"You could run all you want, Senorita. I'll find you."

His voice resonates along the bars of the labyrinth, the deep enthralling rumble shooting a pang of wanton need to the spot between my legs. The heat in my body intensifies, my eyes shutting close as I lean against the bar, a picture of him crafting itself into my imagination.

His voice, his rugged handsomeness, that slope of the crooked nose, the cutting jaw. His hands would be so rough on my body even if they tried to be gentle. Those veins would strain when he holds me, fucks me, debases me.

A furtive hand traces the skin of my inner thigh, drifting slowly under my dress, seeking the throbbing wetness that lodges there. Pressing my middle finger on the center of my pussy from above my panties, I let the moan spill out from between my lips, the sound carrying across the labyrinth.

"Oh...Oh...Gabriel..."

"Senorita? Are those your moans I hear?" he proceeds to say with a touch of desperation and I picture him searching for me, my moans being his only guide. Just the mere thought is suggestive. "You're being sneaky, aren't you?"

Juices slip from my pussy, my panties drenched as I keep working my clit from above. I push my panties aside, touching the bare spot, heat curling up my spine.

"Who are you thinking of?" His snicker travels sweetly to my ears, his voice somehow dropping lower. "Don't be shy now."

"Ahh...ah..." my cries grow louder, the pleasure rushing down my legs, tingling the very soles of my feet.

"I have to say, you're good at hiding. You must be eager to see me as your slave. What do you plan on doing with me, principessa?" He carries a husky note with him, the voice dripping with seductive promises. "I'd do anything, you know? Anything you ask of me."

My upper teeth sink on my bottom lip, struggling to keep the moans silent when all I want to do is scream, the thrill of the chase and his closeness, the eager pursuit of me has me seeking all the highs.

"Come on, principessa. Moan a little louder," he coaxes and I can hear the tug of his lips. He knows the effect he has on me. He knows what he has done. He has turned on a switch inside me. "Let me find you."