22. Impressively Hard, Completely Naked
Bailey
I wake up alone, which I expected. The bed is enormous and extra long, presumably to accommodate a Bigfoot body. The room is so small it’s practically one big bed. It’s actually a very cozy feeling, and even though I usually sleep alone and relish my space, I feel a twinge of loneliness when I spread my arms wide and find nothing but cool sheets.
I roll to my feet and throw an easy summer dress over my body. I fell asleep naked. Sacha left my clothes from the night before folded neatly at the foot of my bed. Even my ratty old sports bra. I hope he doesn’t think all of my underwear is that unattractive. I slip on a cute lacy pair just in case.
The morning sun is just blooming through the bedroom’s small window. I wonder if Sacha has anything planned for the day. I creep into the main room of the cabin, only to find it empty. A French press full of coffee sits steaming beside the stove, and Sacha’s bedroom door is wide open, showing that the cabin is vacant. I’m glad that he let me sleep in, but a flair of terror blooms through me that maybe he’s abandoned me here.
It’s ridiculous, I know it is. It’s stupid to be scared. Still, I have to take a deep breath to quash my fear as I shakily pour myself a mug of coffee.
Doing so, I spot the note next to the carafe.
Gone swimming. See you soon.
xoxo, Sacha
The words bring me a modicum of reassurance. He’s coming back. I knew he would. Of course he is. Of course he is.
I breathe my anxiety slowly out my mouth as I step onto the front porch with my cup of coffee. Being alone gives me a chance to enjoy the solitude the cabin provides. The sun has mostly risen, but there are still long shadows this deep in the woods. Nearly everything is cast in a level of darkness, but soon summer will be hot and heavy outside. I pad barefoot across the soft grass, slowly circling the cabin, admiring the small details added by his family over the years. The air is still and easy, with the heavy scent of pine. I’ve never been much for wilderness, but I’m starting to understand the attraction of seclusion. It’s so peaceful here—so peaceful I don’t notice at first when Sacha walks into view.
His back is to me, and he doesn’t seem to know I’m there. His fur is dripping wet from the river, the only thing he’s wearing is a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. Another glorious reason to enjoy being secluded. A handsome Bigfoot can walk around half-naked.
He looks good.
Really. Really. Good.
I take a moment to enjoy the sight. His hair is still wet from the river. It’s plastered to his body, covering his broad shoulders and back, but thins out across his chest and stomach, rivulets of water run down his chest into those v-shaped muscles of his adonis belt that funnel right to the edge of the towel draped across his hips.
It brings back pleasant memories of the night before—his fingers, mouth, and tongue. The mindless, uncountable orgasms that rocked me. I have to fuck him before we leave. Maybe I could even get him to chase me later.
I should have dragged him into my bed last night. I should have fucked him in the woods when he offered. When am I going to get a chance like this again? A super hot, super rich guy who claims he wants to be with me? I can just let him have me, can’t I? For a little while, at least? The money he pays me will make up for whatever emotional damage he causes.
Before I can utter a breath, he drops the towel, his body fully on display now, revealing a long thick cock dangling between his legs, reaching nearly halfway down his thigh. He lifts his long arms above his head in a laborious stretch, still seemingly ignorant of my presence. His mouth opens large to releases a wide yawning roar that shakes the trees.
Shit. I should say something. I should look away. I definitely shouldn’t let my gaze linger on the shadow his dick casts on his thigh.
His skin twitches, and he shakes like a dog. His whole body shimmies, water sprays in every direction, and his cock flops in the air, slapping against each of his tree trunk thighs. It catches me off guard, and I squeak as a drop of water hits me.
His head whips around.
“Sorry!” I slap my hands over my eyes. “I didn’t mean to watch! I mean—I didn’t mean to see everything! Sorry!”
“Bay!” He says some more words after that, but the noise is lost in chaos as I repeatedly spout an apology.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry.” I continue as I turn and run for the front door of the cabin.
“Bay! Do not run!” he bellows after me.
I’m too lost in embarrassment to comprehend. I race around the corner of the house, bound up the steps of the front porch, before I realize what I am doing. I try to stop myself, but I as I stumble to a halt, my bare foot catches on the front door jam. I tumble to my knees inside the cabin with a yelp.
And then he’s on top of me. His heavy weight pins me easily to the floor.
“I told you not to run,” he growls into my ear. His rough hands meet my waist, and he effortlessly lifts me, flipping me onto my back. He pins my hands above my head, both of my wrists held in one large, capable hand. He spreads my thighs with the press of his knee as he lowers himself over me. My brain is flooded, half with fear and half with desire. He’s strong and big, and I’m totally at his mercy.
“Sacha!” It’s not a protest. He’s still completely naked. I can feel how aroused he is. His erection is pressed against me so close and hard that, if I wasn’t wearing underwear, he’d be inside me right now. My brain is screaming for him to pull them to the side and shove his cock into me, but fortunately, my mouth stays closed.
He doesn’t move for what feels like an eternity, but is truthfully only a few ragged breaths. There’s a terrifying, beautiful, thrilling darkness in his eyes.
He’s panting, like the effort of not taking me here on the bare floor of the cabin is too much exertion for him. “Fuck. I’m sorry, Beast.” His voice is a raspy growl that only makes my pussy wetter.
“It’s okay,” I whisper, scared to say more in case I demand that he fucks me.
He leans back, releasing my wrists to cover his face with his hands. The unignorable tension on my underwear eases. “I’m so sorry, Bailey. Are you alright?”
“I’m fine.” I reassure him. I’m better than fine, I’m burning for him right now.
But he keeps his face hidden in a way that has me worried. In an effort to console him, I reach up to stroke a hand across his cheek and dig my fingers into his beard.
“I’m so sorry.” He pulls away from my touch and leaps to his feet, pulling a blanket from the couch to hide his erection. I’m a little sad not to get a better look at it, but even more upset that he doesn’t want me touching him. “This is how Bigfoots work. We hunt to eat, and we hunt to mate. I didn’t mean to—I wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s okay. You warned me. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have?—”
“No.” He cuts me off loudly. “Do not apologize. This is my fault. I should be in better control. You shouldn’t be scared I’m going to lose it like this.”
I sit up, straightening my clothes. “You didn’t hurt me. I know you wouldn’t hurt me.” I feel the truth of the words deep in my gut as I say them. “I wasn’t scared. Well—I guess I was a little scared, but way more turned on than scared.”
His expression changes to something tormented, and his hand wipes across his face, like he’s trying to clear the emotion.
“I know you can control yourself.” I pull myself into a kneeling position in front of him. “It’s you that doesn’t trust yourself.” I run a hand up his hairy leg.
“Bailey,” his voice is pained.
“You have control, Sacha,” I say. “I can prove it to you. Sit down, I’ll show you.”
“Bailey,” he repeats, but his eyes finally meet mine, looking down from his impressive height. He holds the blanket tight in one hand as the other strokes tenderly through my hair.
“Sit,” I say again, digging my fingers into the thick hair of his leg. I push him gently toward the couch. “Sit down, and let me see what I do to you.”