Chapter Two
Isabelle raced down the uneven paved road, struggling to keep her balance. She thought briefly about plunging into the woods, but she didn’t particularly want to get lost. Still, she might have to risk it if this wasn’t some alcohol-induced illusion.
Harder and harder she ran, looking over her shoulder every now and then to confirm what she already knew.
The Headless Horseman was gaining on her.
Terror seized her for a mind-numbing moment, and she screamed as she plunged into the forest. Branches and foliage slapped her face and arms in her mad dash.
Just when she thought she’d lost him, a strong arm snaked around her waist, hauling her up onto the horse in front of him face down, her belly resting across the V of his thighs.
She screamed and squealed, kicking and hitting his leg with her fists.
Isabelle tried to slide off the horse, but firm hands held her in place.
When she continued to struggle, one hand came down sharply on her behind. She was so startled she stopped screaming. She was even more startled when the same hand came back to her buttocks and massaged it, as if to take away the sting.
Now this was something that didn’t happen every day.
After a few moments, he stopped his horse and pulled her upright.
Settling her in front of him, her back to him, he wrapped an arm around her waist. He patted her leg, as if asking permission the only way he could, before continuing deeper into the forest. When she nodded, he nudged the great black stallion into a brisk trot.
Isabelle knew she was supposed to be scared, and she supposed she was, but some perverse corner of her brain took over and she didn’t care.
She could feel his erection pressing into her ass and knew exactly what he had in mind.
To be honest, she could use a little bump and grind herself.
No, it probably wasn’t the smartest -- or safest -- thing she’d ever done, but hell.
One too many Flying Broomsticks will do that to a girl.
Just because she could, she wiggled her ass into his crotch, tempting him. He flexed his pelvis, pressing his cock into her. She squealed when his hands came around to cup her breasts, gently at first, then in a vigorous massage. With each bounce of the horse, her ass pressed harder against him.
He pinched her nipples through her shirt and her pussy contracted in response.
For the life of her, she couldn’t even try to make him stop, didn’t want to make him stop.
It felt good, and she hadn’t been with a man in quite a long time.
Her body demanded his attention. Besides, if he meant to rape her or kill her, he could have done so already.
They’d been secluded enough he could have done anything he wanted when he’d first captured her.
Instead, he’d managed to drive her fear away and replace it with a burning lust for the carnal.
She wanted to fuck. Pure and simple.
Isabelle hadn’t paid particular attention to their surroundings until they stopped. He reined the horse in at a little cottage in the middle of the forest. A single, dim light burned inside the tiny house. Other than that, nothing illuminated the way this deep in the woods.
He dismounted, dragging Isabelle with him and scooping her up in his arms. In four quick strides, he shouldered his way inside the cottage and slammed the door shut with a booted foot.
He continued through the house to a small bed in the corner, barely big enough for the two of them, and set her gently on the neatly-made coverlet. He stood, crossing his hands over his chest as if to say, What am I to do with you?