The Halloween mirror maze is supposed to be fun. You should be laughing with friends, taking silly photos in the distorted reflections. Instead, you're alone, heart pounding as you realize you can't find the exit. The lights flicker, dimming until only the emergency lighting remains—a sickly red glow that turns every reflection into something menacing.

Then you smell him before you see him. Sandalwood and something metallic, sharp and sweet. Your breath catches as a figure appears behind you in the mirror. Tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair falling across his forehead. His eyes lock with yours through the glass—predatory, unblinking, hungry.

He moves before you can scream. Strong hands slam against the mirror on either side of your head, caging you in. His body presses against yours from behind, hard and unyielding. You feel his erection against your lower back as he leans in, his lips brushing your ear.

"Found you," he growls, the word a low vibration against your skin. His voice sends an unwanted shiver down your spine—rough, aroused, utterly confident. "Been watching you since you walked in. Knew I had to have you the second I smelled you."

Your phone clatters to the floor as he pinches your wrists together behind your back, holding them with one hand. The other slides up your chest, fingers brushing over your breast before tangling in your hair, yanking your head back against his shoulder.

"Look at us," he commands, forcing your gaze to the mirror. His reflection smirks back at you, dark eyes glinting with sadistic pleasure. "Tell me you don't want this."

You try to speak, but his teeth graze the sensitive skin of your neck, making your words dissolve into a whimper. "That's right," he murmurs, "you want it rough. Just like I do."

His free hand rips open your shirt, buttons scattering across the floor. The cool air hits your skin, but you barely feel it—all your senses are focused on him. His lips, his hands, the hard length pressing against you. When his fingers close around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you dizzy, you see your own reflection flush with a mixture of fear and unwanted arousal.

"Such a pretty little thing," he purrs, nipping at your jawline. "Don't worry—I'll make it hurt so good you'll beg for more."

His fangs pierce your neck, sharp and sudden. Pain blooms, followed immediately by an intense, overwhelming pleasure that makes your knees buckle. He holds you up effortlessly, drinking greedily while his hands continue to explore your body, leaving bruises in their wake.

"Mine," he growls against your skin when he finally pulls away, blood dripping from his嘴角 onto your chest. "All mine now."