The Volunteer
It had been snowing all night, but not a shred of evidence was left on the forest floor as I ran. Austin must have cleared all the snow before he told me to run. Interesting, he wasn’t trying to get an advantage by tracking my footprints.
I’d hopped into my boots while I made my way off the porch, only to realize I could have stayed in my slippers. Damn it, I lost precious time going for these boots when I should have grabbed a jacket. Although, I barely felt the cold as I dashed for the forest.
I ran down the path headed north to my favourite hiding spot. Even though I took up running a couple years ago, I wasn’t any good. My lungs couldn’t handle long distances. It probably didn’t help that I spent more time reading about running than actually trying to run but I digress.
I took a sharp right turn, my boots slipping in the mud. I snapped a branch trying to stay upright. Well, he’d definitely know I went this way.
I slowed my pace as I reached the edge of the hill, the last thing I needed was to go tumbling down the whole way.
I took a few steps and skid a few feet. Damn it, it would have been safer if he’d left the damn snow.
We got over thirty centimetres overnight, I would have sunk right in instead of worrying about going face-first into a tree. Why was the hill so fucking steep?
There was a tree by the lake that I could climb to hide, if I could make it. I had no idea how much time had passed and I certainly wasn’t going to waste time by checking. That would require stopping to take out my phone.
“Ready or not, here I come.”
Austin’s voice cut through the silence. He was still by the house—unless he cheated—but he sounded like he was right behind me and in front of me. Like he was everywhere and nowhere all at once.
I got to the bottom of the hill and dashed for the edge of the lake. I didn’t get more than a few steps before I slammed into a wall of muscle. I squealed, stumbling back. My eyes met those beautiful icy-blues, burning with lust.
I was done for.
I backed away slowly, he made no move to stop me.
“Cheater. You used your shadows.”
“Not using my power wasn’t one of your ground rules.”
The deep rumble in his voice halted my feet.
Was it embarrassing that I was practically salivating over his voice?
Or was it because I knew exactly what that mouth could do?
Or was it just the sight of him in his black leather jacket and dark blue jeans with the combat boots?
Or the fact that his hair was more messy than usual because of the wind and it had been a few days since he shaved?
All of it. He was fucking perfect.
“It’s not a very fun game if you can catch me so easily.”
Fucking fuck, that devilish smirk. He was going to eat me alive.
“I haven’t caught you yet, have I?”
I spun on my heels, racing farther into the forest. His laugh echoed around me. Why was I running again? Why was I not just letting him catch me?
Because he hadn’t even touched me yet and I was already drenched.
Best. Foreplay. Ever. Thank you very much.
He appeared out of his shadows a few metres ahead; I changed course, heading to my right. I ran a bit more, catching a glimpse of his Cheshire grin out of the corner of my right eye. I used the tree to my left to change directions without losing my momentum.
For a minute all I could hear was my breathing, all I could feel was my heartbeat. And then I skidded to a halt as darkness surrounded me. It snuffed out every one of my senses except for one.
Smell.
I was overwhelmed by the scent of ice and whisky and cinnamon. I knew he was close. But where? I was halfway terrified, halfway more excited than I’d ever been in my life. Total darkness. He created total darkness.
He was the most powerful, most dangerous supervillain.
Ever.
And he picked me.
He was mine.
“Are you done running, Nightshade?”
His voice was in my ear but he was nowhere to be found. Not a hint of his body near mine. But it kicked my hearing back into gear. The sound of my breathing was almost deafening against the extreme silence.
“Me and running barely get along, I don’t think adding total darkness will make it better.”
“You give up so easy.” His chuckle echoed around me. “Where’s the fun in that?”
I took two steps forward and hit something, hard. Not him. A tree. I sighed, rubbing my cheek as his chuckle turned to a laugh.
“This is what happens when I walk in the dark. Yes. I give up.”
“Pity.”
The next thing I knew, I was on the ground, his hand on the back of my neck, my cheek pressed into the snow as he held me down. He must have brought it all back so I wouldn’t be face-first in the mud—how thoughtful.
It was wet snow, the prefect kind for making forts and snowballs. When he threw me into it, it packed down, creating a soft blanket. It was cold, but I barely registered it with the heat radiating off him.
“You remember your word?” he whispered in my ear.
I nodded.
“Say it.”
“Ashes.”
“Good, because it’s the only thing that will stop me now.” His voice was hoarse, ragged, so full of lust. “You can scream and cry and beg all you want. But you’re going to fucking take it until I’m done with you.”
A needy whimper escaped my lips. I wanted to hit myself. Fucking fuck, he would definitely get me to beg this time. I was done for. Finished. Fucking fucked. And I couldn’t wait.
The grin that grew on his face could only be described as sadistic.
The pressure of his knee on my back lifted, right hand moving to my hair, pulling me up to my knees.
I’d never liked having my hair pulled, none of the guys I’d been with knew how to do it right, but my Avalanche…
Fuck, I’d let him do anything to me. I might even throw out my own ground rules if he asked me to.
He moved in front of me, tilted my head back as he pressed his body to mine, and captured my lips in a bruising kiss. He sucked my bottom lip and bit down. Hard, drawing a moan. God I sounded so pathetic. I knew I was only going to get worse.
“I love those naughty little noises you make for me.”
I didn’t have time to retort before he was back to devouring me. I lifted my hands to run them under his shirt. I need to touch him, to feel him. Except, a shackle made of ice wrapped around each of my wrists and slammed my arms to my side.
“But—”
“Shut up. You haven’t earned the right to touch me yet.”
“How—”
“I said shut the fuck up,” he growled, yanking my head back.
Sick. I was so fucking sick. I would never let anyone talk to me like that, ever. But him? Fuck me, I whimpered. Again. And rubbed my thighs together, desperately trying to create any kind of friction. He noticed.
Tsking, he used his knee to force my legs apart. I felt something wrap around my ankles. I imagined it was more shackles or something along those lines, but I couldn’t see. Austin wouldn’t let my attention move from his.
“What do you think you’re doing, Nightshade?”
The word nothing almost slipped out, but he told me to shut up so I was shutting the fuck up. Amusement shone in his eyes.
“Now you have nothing to say?”
I shook my head. He grabbed my jaw with his free hand and squeezed, darkened eyes boring into mine.
“When I ask you a question, you open your fucking mouth to answer me. So we’re going to try this again. What do you think you’re doing?”
Fuck me. I. Was. Drenched.
“Trying to create friction.” My voice came out distorted with his hand still clenching my jaw.
He tsked again. “So impatient.”
His hand left my face, trailing his finger over my jaw, down my neck to my collar bone.
His eyes were following the path of his fingers until he reached the front of my pencil skirt.
It had four buttons in the front—not just decorative either, they could be undone.
I watched him debate his next move; whether he would take off my fleece-lined tights from underneath or remove both the tights and skirt.
He decided on a more aggressive version of the former, ripping my tights and panties off. I kept my mouth shut, even though I wanted to yell at him for that. Fleece lined anything was stupid expensive; those tights cost me a small fortune, but I would pick my battles. He’d hear about it later.
Plus, any will to yell at him evaporated as his thumb began circling my clit. The groan he let out when he felt how wet I was for him did something to my brain chemistry. It was witchcraft that made me want to get that sound out of him again and again.
“Fuck, baby, you’re so wet for me. You like to be chased, chained, and fucking used?”
I started to nod, not trusting my voice, but remembered his earlier demand and stopped myself.
“Yes,” I breathed out.
His sadistic smile hadn’t dropped, but as the word left my mouth, it turned more wicked—dangerous.
“You listened so good, baby. Tell me, what do you want as a reward?”
My eyes flickered to the bulge practically begging to get out of his jeans. I wanted him to fuck my mouth until I couldn’t breathe and tears were streaming down my face, but I didn’t trust myself to say that many words in my current state. My gaze went back to his, my tongue running over my lips.
“I want you to use me.”
He detangled his hand from my hair and stood. I kept my gaze locked on his as he worked his belt loose, then his button, then his zipper. My mouth watered in anticipation as he freed himself from his boxers.
In my peak hoe faze, I didn’t have a gag reflex. Then everything skidded to a halt when this fucker ruined my sex life—unintentionally, but still. I wasn’t sure if I could still handle it—handle him. But fuck, I couldn’t wait to find out.
“Open your mouth.”
I did.
“Good girl.”
Then, without warning, he shoved his cock in my mouth. His hands went back to my hair, guiding my head while he thrust in and out. He kept it shallow to start, not pushing past the back of my throat, mostly just gliding himself over my tongue. I wanted more.
“You feel so good. Your mouth was fucking made for me.”