Chapter 3 #2
Her knee shot up, aiming for my ribs. I blocked it, fingernails biting into the back of her thigh as I forced her leg out, wider than her comfort. The angle made her hiss, muscles straining against me.
I followed the line of her body with my tongue, a slow drag down her sternum, tasting salt and sweat and the metallic tang where a branch had broken her skin.
She was fighting now, really fighting, the kind of rage that turned every breath into a threat.
Her hips snapped and bucked against me, a wild, desperate attempt to twist free that only made my grip tighten.
My cock twitched, begging to sink deep inside her sweet pussy.
“Still running,” I murmured against her throat. “Even when I’ve already caught you.”
She tried to bite me, snapping at my jaw, so I caught her face in one hand and pushed two fingers between her lips.
Her protest broke on a guttural sound as I forced her jaw open.
Her lips closed around my knuckles, her tongue hot.
She sucked, hard enough my vision went white at the edges.
Shit. She was sexy as hell. The more she fought, the more I liked her.
Spit slicked my hand, glistening at the corner of her mouth.
Then she clamped down, testing me, her teeth digging in.
I jerked back and wrapped my hand around her throat, squeezing just enough to make her feel it.
“You picked the wrong man if you wanted gentle.” A dark chuckle slipped from me. “I died once. I’m not wasting the second life on mercy.”
Shock coasted over her pretty features before she could hide it again. Her head snapped sideways, hair whipping, and she spat red on the floorboards, eyes burning when she turned back to me.
I caught her attention. “There she is.” I watched her pupils dilate in the dim light.
“The girl who wants this—who craves the danger.” I traced along the edge of her collarbone, feeling her shiver beneath my touch.
“Something tells me you love a monster.” My lips curled into a wicked smile. “It’s your lucky day.”
I didn’t give her time to answer. I spun her around, shoving her cheek-first to the boards, one hand flattening the back of her neck.
The platform was rough, grit and splinters digging into her skin.
She writhed under me, but I planted a knee between her thighs and pinned her there, caging her with my body.
“Game’s over,” I growled into her ear. “You’re mine.”
Her fingers clawed at the wood, nails scraping. I fisted her hair and yanked her head back just enough that I could see the side of her face. The stubborn line of her jaw, the fury, the heat. Something else underneath it, raw and hungry, and it made my pulse throb.
“Say it,” I ordered.
“You win.” Her words came out ragged, torn between defiance and surrender.
The platform shuddered with every shift of my weight as I pressed closer, crowding her, making sure there was no doubt, no space left to pretend she didn’t know exactly what being caught meant in our game.
I lowered my mouth to her ear, my lips grazing the shell. “Remember that the next time you decide to run.”
Her answer was a broken, choked sound that could’ve been a curse or a prayer.
I yanked her leggings and underwear down in one rough pull, leaving them tangled at her knees.
I fumbled my jeans open, the rough denim scraping against the heel of my palm.
Quickly, I fished the foil packet from my back pocket, tore it open with my teeth, and rolled the latex down with one practiced hand.
My cock strained painfully against my grip, veins pulsing with each thundering heartbeat, and when I pressed the swollen head against her slick pussy, electricity shot up my spine. She bucked beneath me, and that resistance only fed the animal inside me.
I ground her cheek against the splintered wooden boards, feeling them creak under our weight, muffling her cries to mere whimpers that disappeared into the vast emptiness surrounding us. Not that there was anyone close enough to care.
Her cunt was wet, slick with adrenaline and apparently pent-up rage.
I didn’t ease in; I wanted her to remember every fucking second.
Her hot pussy tightened around my dick like a fist, and I groaned through clenched teeth.
The first hard thrust made her exhale a strangled cry that vibrated against my calloused palm where I pinned her neck.
I set a brutal rhythm, my hips snapping forward, each thrust jolting the rusted platform beneath us.
I grabbed her hip, digging half-moon crescents into her pale flesh so deep I knew they would bloom into purple bruises by morning.
She arched her spine and twisted, trying to throw me.
I forced her trembling legs wider, driving into her sweet cunt until my thighs burned red with each punishing collision.
She swore at me, and I laughed, shoving her cheek harder against the boards. Her hair was wild, full of leaves and grit, and sweat slickening her temple. I fisted my hand tighter in the dark knot at the base of her skull, pulling her head back until she gasped for air.
“Ride my cock, slut.”
She stilled. Then pushed back against me, all tension and muscle. I went deeper, grinding at the edge of my release, so close my balls ached. I slapped her ass, watched the bloom of color, then did it again, harder, just to see her jolt.
I reached around and jammed two fingers between her legs, sliding them over the slick skin until I found her throbbing clit.
Her pussy clamped down on me, hard enough I nearly lost it.
I fucked her with my hand and cock at the same time, every thrust making her whimper, each sound better than the last.
I bent over her shoulder and bit down. She made a noise of half pain, half something else, maybe surrender. I didn’t care. I wanted to fuck her until she gave up, until the fight went out of her.
The pressure built, white and hot. I grunted, and slammed into her one last time, buried to the hilt. I came so hard I saw stars, sparks firing behind my eyelids. I pumped until she cried out with her own orgasm. I didn’t let go of her neck until I felt her go limp underneath me.
We stayed like that for a long minute, her knees trembling, my breath sawing in and out of my chest. I let go of her hair and let her slump to the boards, her breath coming in shudders.
I removed and tied off the condom, sticking it in my pocket before I zipped and buttoned my jeans, blood still drumming through my skull, shaking with the afterburn of violence and need.
My mouth tasted of copper and moss and the tang of her sweat.
She didn’t move. Not at first. Then her shoulders jerked, and she rolled to her side, knees wrenched to her chest. I watched her eyes flick up, meeting mine with a look that said more than any words. Her lip was split where she’d bitten through, a bead of blood pooling on her chin.
I crouched and wiped it away with my thumb. She snarled, but this time she didn’t bite.
“Are you still alive?” My own voice sounded gutted, ragged. I didn’t ask out of kindness. I asked because I didn’t like losing.
She barked out a laugh, then spat another string of red onto the platform. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”
I grinned and sat back on my haunches, watching her flex her hands and test her wrists for damage.
She stretched and let the torn shirt hang open, exposing her bare chest to the wind.
She didn’t bother to cover herself. There was no shame here, no modesty, just two animals coming down from the high.
“I’ll walk you back.” My gesture said it all. I was intrigued by this one. Her fight. Her stamina, but more than that, the secrets that she was hiding.
Her dark hair caught the light as she tossed it back, revealing a thin white scar along her jawline I hadn’t noticed before. She caught me looking and her gaze narrowed slightly, the corner of her mouth twitching upward like she was daring me to ask.
She shook her head. “I’m not done yet.”
A new Ritual. A new hunt. Five men who hadn’t had their hands in her hair yet, and she was going to let one of them catch her.
I exhaled through my nose, slowly. Wrong answer. Soon she would understand that I didn’t fall for women. I fell into obsessions. But not yet. I would watch her because the second she chose someone else, she would understand that wasn’t allowed.
I sneered. Let her have fun one last time, and when I was done with her, she would be crawling to me, begging me to fuck and own her.
She stood, knees shaky but stable, and picked her way to the edge of the platform. She wiped her nose and gave me a look that was half challenge, half approval.
The walk down from the tower was slow, every movement a reminder of what it cost to play this game. She didn’t ask for help, so I didn’t offer it. I knew better than to insult her that way. Instead, I kept pace, boots crunching in sync with hers, neither of us saying a word until we hit the ground.
“Are you coming back next week?” Her tone bordered on friendly.
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
She nodded, then jogged off into the woods, melting into the dusk like a ghost. I watched her vanish, the echo of her laughter rattling around in my skull.
I took the long way back to the lodge, hands buried in my pockets, mind replaying the game in relentless detail. The taste of adrenaline and blood lingered, sweet and sharp. I wondered if I’d drawn blood anywhere else on her, if I’d marked her as much as she had me.
At the check-in desk, Mitchell was waiting. He tossed my keys and phone across the counter.
“Good run?” Mitchell’s grin told me he already knew the answer.
I smirked, not trusting myself to speak.
He grinned, eyes glinting.
“See you next week, then.”
I drove home with the windows down, letting the wind strip away the stink of sweat and dirt.
The wind couldn’t scrape her out of my head, and that was the part that made my stomach flip.
The city lights blurred past, neon veins pulsing in the dark.
I flexed my fingers on the wheel, the ghost of her grip still lingering on my skin.
I’d come here to burn off the noise in my head. I left with her laugh echoing through it. My brain didn’t know how to leave things alone. It latched. It fixated. It claimed.