Chapter 4
Sulfur. Rotting flesh. Bloody cages… The stench stays with you. It sticks to your leathers like flies to honey paper. I will not go back to that.
Saint fucking Nick can kiss my horse’s arsehole. He’s done nothing valiant with the sacrifices we’ve given him. All those pretty little virgins wasted on his insatiable hunger for flesh. We’ve given him pounds of it. No more. This year, we’re taking what is owed to us.
A whiff of her scent tickles the hairs of my nose.
Thank you, Conquest. He made her cum so hard, her arousal permeates these entire woods.
Now I want to track her to the edge of fear and push her past it.
Until she thinks she’s free, convincing her that maybe I’ve given up, all while I’m closer than she could ever imagine.
I loosen the reins and dig in my heels, pushing my beast faster.
I pay no mind to the harsh elements. The wind and snow are the thickest this time of year, fusing icicles to my jet-black strands like glass bonded to obsidian.
It’s an undulating prism to be locked in, to be cold to the touch while my body heats from within.
It stirs a growl in my chest, a low melodic hum that unfurls when I’m both feral and aroused.
I catch a glimpse of her blonde hair whipping wildly around her head.
She runs quite fast for a peasant girl who, I imagine, starves most nights.
I should’ve known Conquest would give her some help.
He fixed her boots. I can hear his sadistic laughter and devious whispers through the trees.
The bastard. Yet the thrill of excitement flits through me.
The faster she runs, the harder my cock swells.
And the wider I will stretch that virgin cunt of hers.
The forest is dark, but not for us. We see like the wolves do, tracking movements and shadows with heightened perception and vision. While she stumbles around like a little doe, I grow stronger, faster, and impossible to run from for long.
The wind carries another heady rush of her scent to my nose.
I lick my lips, aching to taste her. She smells like peonies, burnt honey, and salt—not the kind you add to stews, but rather the salt you taste on dampened skin.
I place one hand on my stiff cock and flick the reins harder with the other. “Velox!”
Her shrieks echo through the trees, but her voice is tiny, fragile, a voice that sounds like a lullaby. One that’s about to be drowned out by a nightmare. I hope she rages against me. I hope she tries to tear me to shreds. I like blood mixed with my arousal.
At some point, whether new boots or not, she will tire. But I want to get to her before then. I want to fuck the fight right out of her.
I herd her where I want her to go. When she veers to the right, so do I.
The echo of my horse’s hooves gaining on her, force her back the other way.
And so on, until I’ve got her zig zagging through the forest toward an abandoned cabin.
The same one where we’ve brought countless girls before her to be sacrificed to Saint Nick.
But we always left them pure, their cunts untouched.
Only virgins for our greedy little saint.
And as we galloped away, we ignored the grunts and moans as he fucked their corpses. That’s all he wanted—dead things to play with. And in return, he’d bestow gifts upon their worthless families. Sick bastards.
I sense her relief when she reaches the cabin. I imagine she thinks its four walls can protect her. But it’s only the illusion of safety. Nothing can keep me out. Deep down she knows that.
The door slams shut minutes before I approach. I dismount my stallion and pause only to caress his back. “Keep watch,” I whisper in his ear.
I take my time stalking toward the decaying cabin. Inside, a thud rings out, boots scrambling. I kick the door open and barrel in. “You can run, but you can’t hide.”
The space is just as we left it last year, including the blood stains on the rotting wooden floors. I light a fire in the hearth, acting as if we are to lovingly sit by it, as I listen for her heartbeat. When the truth is, I like the smell of smoke and embers.
The stairs creak under my boots as I go in search of our little doe. She’s foolish if she thinks she can hide from me forever, but the challenge makes my cock swell with anticipation. “I can smell Conquest’s mouth on you,” I snarl.
When I reach the threshold of the bedroom, I pause and close my eyes. Her heart is racing. The stench of her sweat and fear is so palpable it makes my lips quiver with need. I glance under the bed. “Come out and face me, peasant.”
A thump sounds from the narrow closet in the corner. How ridiculous. I tear the shingled door off its hinges. I find a mass of blonde hair, pale white skin, and sparkling blue eyes. She gasps as I grab her and drag her out. “I’m an immortal. You cannot hide from me.”
She shrieks and pounds her tiny fists against my chest. “Don’t touch me, you heathen.”
This one is feisty. A refreshing change. Could she truly be the one we’ve been waiting for?
I slam her up against the wall and pin her arms over her head. “I will do so much more than touch, sweet Imogen.”
Her eyes well with tears even as they hunger for me. She’s confused. Her terror mixes with a craving for the unspeakable things she didn’t even know she wanted. Until now. I toss her onto the lumpy mattress and mount her.
She lets out another scream and a slew of curses. “Get off me!”
I secure her wrists to the bedposts with the rope from my belt. “Let me have a look at you.”
Her chest heaves as I unbutton the cloak Conquest sent her running in. Her nipples are a dark-rosy blush, standing fully erect like two stiff peaks. I undo the last button and spread her coat back. The gods have blessed this one.
A low growl erupts from my chest when I feast my gaze upon her glistening pussy. I stroke a finger down her slit. “Are you ready to be broken in, little doe?”
Tears stream down her cheeks. “Please just kill me.” And yet her body’s response doesn’t match her words.
“Death might. He likes to fuck limp, cold things that don’t talk back. But for now, you will have to endure my brutality.” I pry her legs apart and rest a knee on each one of her thighs to keep her in place. “Take a deep breath, girl. I’m going to show you what it means to be chosen by a Horseman.”
With no further warning, I give her pussy a light slap. She bucks, her back arching off the bed. “Have mercy,” she gurgles out.
I rub my palm up and down her slit, relishing the heat that exudes from her. “So soft and slick…”
She whimpers. “I am not.”
Feisty and stubborn. My cock hasn’t been this hard in centuries. “Liar.” I slap her again, a little harder this time. She pinches her eyes shut, her face flushing bright pink. Her legs shake underneath me. “Oh? Does the little virgin enjoy being my slut?”
She bites her lip and glares back at me. “No. You repulse me.”
We’ll see about that. I lean forward and pinch her nipples between my fingers, squeezing hard. “Your words are useless to me.”
Her breath hitches. “I don’t care what you believe. I don’t want you.”
Yet her protests are becoming weaker, ranging from loud admonitions to faint murmurs. She tries to resist even though all she really wants to do is submit.
I pinch harder. “You don’t have to want me to enjoy the filthy things I’m going to do to you.”
As I gaze over her body, I salivate. She’s a striking creature, beautiful as she is fragile, even covered in dirt and sweat.
I knew the second they dropped her off in the woods that she would be the one we claim.
Echoes and visions from another time… another life.
We all felt it. This one would be our owed penance.
And deep inside her bright blue eyes, that long-lost spark is still there.
She lets out a soft moan when I release her nipples, only to replace my fingers with my teeth. I bite down hard enough to leave marks but not break the skin, running the tip of my tongue in circles around each one, alternating between sucking and scraping.
“You have no right,” she says on a shaky breath.
I chuckle and remove the leather strap from my waist, the one that holds my sword up. “I want to see how well you can speak when you can’t breathe.”
Her eyes widen, her mouth agape, as I wind the strap around her neck and pull it taut. “Please…”
She arches her back in arousal. The way her eyes glaze with lust and confusion makes me think she’s just discovered a new pleasure she didn’t know she had. “Shhh, save your breath. If you behave, I may loosen it.”
Her body goes slack, and her eyelids droop. She’s giving in to the sensation. I let my hands roam her body, roughly squeezing and pinching her supple flesh. From her thighs to her buttocks and back to that sweet pussy.
I press two fingers against her entrance. Soaked. I can’t wait to slip inside her. “Such a tight little hole. Fuck, I can barely fit one finger in.”
She whimpers when I thrust in three. “Ohhh…”
I am not gentle nor slow. I want her to feel every agonizing stroke as I stretch her. I want her to ache and wince and feel every inch of me in her fucking soul. I pump my fingers in and out with such force until her strangled cries turn feral.
“That moment you feel like you are going to die… when you think you can’t take anymore… that’s what I want.” The scent of her arousal is intoxicating. Her juices leak down my wrist, soaking the mattress beneath us.
“I can’t… breathe,” she rasps.
I slap the outside of her thigh with my free hand. “Stop whining. You can breathe just fine. Otherwise, you’d be dead.” I add a fourth finger and chuckle as her body comes alive again, arching and writhing from my touch. “Do you really wish me to stop?”
She blinks her heavy lids a few times and murmurs something unintelligible.
I pinch her clit. “Hmm? Tell me if you want me to stop. And I might consider it.” I have no intention of doing so, but I also know that she is, in fact, enjoying this more than anything she’s ever experienced in her entire wretched life.
Her cheeks flush again, and it spreads to her chest. “I… I cannot.”
“You cannot what?”
“Tell you to stop…” She turns her head to the side and looks away in shame.