Prey on the Hunter.

Chapter 5. The Rat Trap.

Gustavo’s POV

I couldn't be happier. The sounds of the reception, laughing, clinking glasses, the soft hum of music, so very joyful, so very nice, and yet so–

Sickening!

To think I had actually gone ahead and agreed with this terrible plan. It was a good thing Raquel had been avoiding me. The thought of having to pretend and smile at everyone like a happy groom boiled my blood, and my lips ached from all that smiling.

"She's been avoiding you," Ezra says, his voice low and steady as he joins me, clinking glasses like a happy older brother.

I sigh dreadfully, my eyes fixed on the party below while I keep up my fake appearance. I knew exactly why he'd come to find me. But I was far from the mood for his words of caution.

“She's handling it better than I thought, after all, we did show up unannounced and blacked out her fiancé,” I whispered.

Ezra exhaled, his hand patted my shoulder, "You want my advice?" he asked anyway.

"Not really." I snapped. I run a hand through my hair, frustration bubbling under the surface. I didn’t care how this looked. I didn't care about the charade, the guests, or the wedding; all I cared about was her, the woman who dared to strangle me and left me half dead in the middle of the woods.

If I hadn't woken up a minute after she left, I might have actually died from excessive bleeding, and I swear, if he had returned, she would have been with her mother in the heavens.

I glanced over at him, the tension between us thick. "I’m going to enjoy this, brother, you know that, right? It'll be slow, but I’ll make sure she knows exactly who’s in control."

He opened his mouth, clearly about to argue, but stopped. “Our guest of honour didn't make it today,” he whispered.

I froze for a minute and turned, making eye contact only to force a smile the next minute when one of the guests walked up to me, sounding the same boring phrase of “congratulations.” I had gotten sick of it, but it was far too early to blow my cover.

***

At last, the event was slowly coming to an end when I noticed Raquel slowly slip away. With a small bow, I excuse myself and follow after her. I moved through the hallways quickly, like a shadow, my steps light but deliberate when my eyes caught sight of her just as she slipped into the hotel room, and I followed, unable to resist the pull.

“Where are you going? The reception’s barely over,” I asked.

At that moment, her shoulders tensed as she flinched, quivering in fear as if she were a bunny.

Something was satisfying in the way she tensed up. I knew I wasn't supposed to be enjoying this, but her reactions were far from boring.

“Oh, you see-” she hesitated, rushing towards the centre table as she grabbed a wine from the bucket, and poured herself a drink.

She was nervous.

That much was obvious. And I loved it. I leaned against the doorframe and crossed my arms, just letting her stew for a moment, only to close the door right after, and like a cat, Raquel froze, completely speechless, her eyes fixated on the door behind me.

“Gus- the door,” she hesitated.

“Oh, yes, I thought you were tired and wanted to take a rest. The night's still young after all~” I teased, growing closer by the second.

She sets the glass down, her lips pressed together in that way I know means she’s fighting to keep her cool. "I’m fine," she said, but it’s too quick, too sharp. I could hear the lie in her voice, like an open book; she was so easy to read.

“Well, don't worry, we can let Ezra handle it, he's super reliant on things like this, we could call it a night, after all, we're both here, in our bedroom,” I said.

Her eyes dart away from mine, but only for a second. She’s scared. She didn't want me to see it, but I could tell.

“I’m just tired, Gustavo,” she said. The words slipped out before she could stop them. “It’s been a long day.”

I raised an eyebrow, the corner of my lips curling into a grin. “I’ll handle it,” I murmur, the words barely a whisper. There’s a power in them, something unspoken, and I watch as she flinches.

I could feel her shifting, the uncertainty rolling off her in waves. She wasn't sure what to do. And that made everything feel even better.

“I’m tired, okay?” She pressed her hands against her forehead, trying to will herself to stay calm, but I could see right through her act. She was a mess. And I enjoyed every second of it.

“You used to like it,” I said. My voice slipped into something softer, something more intimate, though it was all a game.

Her eyes flash with something I can’t quite place—anger? Embarrassment? A Way out?

Her voice trembled as she snapped her fingers, backing up immediately, “You’ve forgotten, haven’t you?” she spat out. “You may not remember, but you know, when we were in love, our nights weren’t always normal. You used to…” She cuts herself off, her voice faltering.

The more I tried to piece together whatever she wanted to say, the more trouble I felt.

For the first time in a while, I got bone-chilling goosebumps as if someone was breathing down my neck and couldn't help but wonder, just what was going on inside that small head of hers.

“I haven’t forgotten a thing,” I said in confusion, but I feel a flicker of something else in me— an ache I don’t want to acknowledge, fear? It couldn't be possible.

“Well, you seem to have forgotten because then–” her words trail off a bit, and I could see her face turn red like a tomato.

As she gripped hard on her dress, she murmured shyly, “You were a big fan of b**m!!!”

I stood for a minute, shocked at the realisation of a kink I never knew I had.

“I was?!”

“Yes,” she interrupted, “but well, I'm tired right now, and I'm not in the mood for any foreplay, besides, I didn't bring any equipment with me, so I can't do anything with you, so how about we call it a night.”

A large smile plastered as she grabbed a pillow and scurried away.

Still drenched in shock, I had time to reflect on this pitiful excuse that was quite terrifying. It's obvious she was lying, I mean I've had dirty s*x but b**m was something I certainly was interested in, if I gave up now, then it'll be the same as me giving her the upper hand.

I watched as Raquel hummed joyfully, and with so little endurance in me, I muttered, “Show me.”

It was in my mouth before I even thought about it.

The challenge was there, thick in the air between us. And I wanted to watch her crack, I wanted to see her fall apart in front of me, but I wanted her to do it on her terms, to give me the satisfaction of seeing her try and fail.

She hesitated, clearly thrown by the request. “I... I can’t just...” She stammered, then pulled herself together with a deep breath. “Fine. You want this?”

She looked at me, her eyes flashed with defiance and something else—fear, maybe? But it only made me want to push her more.

She took a step forward, awkwardly fumbling with her back zip, but I could see the confusion in her movements.