16. Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Fifteen
Kairo
I wrap one arm around her waist and clamp my other hand over her mouth to muffle her scream. She kicks me in the leg as I grunt, moving her towards the fat tree trunk.
"Found you," I whisper through the mask, my voice distorted into something inhuman.
Harbor struggles wildly in my grip, her body thrashing with the last desperate strength of true terror. I spin us around, slamming her against the oak tree, pinning her with my weight.
"Shhh," I soothe, as if calming a frightened animal. "Fighting just makes it worse."
"Please," she gasps when I ease my hand from her mouth. "Please don't hurt me."
"Hurt you?" I press closer, letting her feel my hardness against her stomach. "That's not what this is about."
Moving my hand upwards, I grip her throat, watching the tears well in the corner of her eyes. With my now-free hand, I reach up to stroke her face, wiping away the drops that stream down her cheeks.
"You're beautiful when you're afraid," I tell her, drinking in the sight of her flushed face, her wild eyes. "But that's not all you're feeling, is it?"
My hand drops from her face to her breast, squeezing roughly through her sweater. Despite her fear, or perhaps because of it, her nipple is hard against my palm. Evidence of the dark truth neither of us can deny.
"No," Harbor says, but it's weak, unconvincing even to her own ears. Her body betrays her, arching slightly into my touch.
"That’s right. You’re a dirty girl. My dirty, dirty little rabbit,” my fingers pinch her nipple hard enough to make her gasp. "Your body knows what you need, even if your mind hasn't caught up yet."
In one fluid motion, I grab both her wrists and pin them above her head with one hand. My other hand grips her throat, not squeezing, just holding—a reminder of who's in control.
"Tell me to stop," I challenge, pressing my thigh between her legs, feeling the heat of her even through our clothes. "Tell me you don't want this."
Her lips part, but no words come out. Just a shuddering breath that might be fear or might be anticipation. Maybe both.
I crash my mouth against hers, swallowing whatever protest she might have made. The kiss is brutal, all teeth and tongue and desperation. To my dark delight, after a moment of resistance, she kisses back, a whimper escaping from the back of her throat.
My hand releases her neck to slide down her body, roughly shoving up her sweater to expose her breasts to the cold night air. They're perfect—small, firm, with dusky pink nipples pebbled from the chill. Or from arousal. I lower my head to take one in my mouth, biting down just hard enough to make her cry out.
I move to the other, my hand twisting and flicking where my mouth just was. Harbor squirms against me, her breath coming in ragged gasps as I work her over. The little noises she makes are the sound of submission, a chorus of need. I could do this forever, keep her teetering on the edge between pleasure and pain until she doesn't know which is which.
Releasing her nipple with a pop, I drag my lips up the curve of her breast to her collarbone, sucking hard enough to leave yet another mark. Her skin will be a map of my conquest by the time I'm done with her.
My hand tightens around her wrists as I bite and lick my way up her neck, feeling her pulse race under my tongue. She tilts her head back, giving me more access, her body pliant and soft against my hardness. I nip at her ear, tugging on the delicate lobe with my teeth, and she shudders like I've shocked her.
"Please," she whispers, the word slipping out before she can stop it. I don't know if she's begging me to stop or begging me for more. It doesn't matter. I know what she needs, even if she doesn't.
I kiss her again, taking my time now, drawing it out while my free hand roams her body, squeezing her breast, her ass, finally slipping between us to cup her through her jeans. She's wet. I can feel the heat of it, the proof of her desire, and it's almost enough to make me come in my pants like a teenager. Almost.
I grind my palm against her clit, relishing in the little sounds she makes as she subconsciously bucks forward.
"Please," she gasps, but she's not fighting anymore. Her hands, released from my grip, tangle in my hair, holding me to her breast rather than pushing me away. "We shouldn't—"
"Shhhhh now," I growl against her skin. "Stop pretending."
I reach between us to unbutton her jeans, yanking them down her thighs along with her panties. The night air is cold against her exposed skin, making her shiver. Or maybe that's from the way I'm looking at her, devouring her with my eyes through the slits in my mask.
"Tell me what you want," I demand, my voice rough with need.
"I don't—I can't—" she stammers, but her hips push forward, seeking friction against the hard length straining against my pants.
"Say it," I insist, cupping her pussy with my hand, feeling the slick evidence of her arousal. "Say what your body is already telling me."
A sick satisfaction crawls up my spine at the fact I didn’t need the restraints. No, my little rabbit wants this.
Wants me.
When she remains silent, I slip a finger inside her, then another, curling them to find that spot that makes her arch off the tree with a strangled cry.
Her nails dig into my shoulders, holding on for dear life as I work her over, relentless and unyielding. Her jeans are around her ankles, her sweater shoved up to her armpits, the picture of debauchery. The picture of perfection.
"Say it," I growl again, thrusting my fingers deep inside her, my thumb circling her clit. "Tell me you want this."
Her head falls back against the tree, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps. Her body is alive, every nerve ending singing with need. She’s on the cusp of it, teetering on the edge of oblivion.
"Yes," she finally cries, her voice breaking. "Yes, I want it. I want you."
My whole body vibrates with triumph, with dark satisfaction. I pull my fingers out of her, and she makes a sound of protest, of denial. I grab her wrists and spin her around, pressing her face-first against the rough bark of the tree.
"You want me?" I ask, my voice a low, dangerous rumble. "Then take it like a good little girl."
I yank her hips back, forcing her to bend at the waist, her ass high in the air and her legs spread wide. She’s dripping, her pussy glistening in the moonlight. I can smell her arousal, heady and intoxicating, and it's all I can do not to bury myself inside her right then and there.
Instead, I take my time, dragging my fingers through her wetness, teasing her entrance without giving her what she so desperately wants. My cock is pissed, so hard it hurts. But I’m not done making her come undone.
"Fuck," she gasps, her head falling forward against the rough bark. "Fuck me."
The words are so quiet I almost miss them, but they're enough. I withdraw my fingers, bringing them to my mouth to taste her. Sweet and tangy and perfect. I unbuckle my belt, freeing my cock, rock-hard and aching with need. It’s already dripping, and I can’t wait to sink into her wet heat. She feels the loss of contact and turns around, leaning against the tree, her chest heaving as she watches me with hooded eyes before closing them and trying to slow her breathing.
"Look at me," I order, gripping her chin with one hand. "I want you to see who's taking you."
Her eyes lock with mine through the mask, wide and dark with fear and desire. I lift her, hands gripping the backs of her thighs, and she wraps her legs around my waist instinctively. The head of my cock nudges against her pussy, pushing slowly before pulling back.
It’s a torturous game, one I don’t need to play, but do anyway. I want her soaked, dripping. I want to see the flush of her cheeks as she realizes she can’t live without me. Without this.
"Say no again," I taunt, rubbing myself against her slickness but not pushing in. "Tell me how wrong this is while your cunt gets wetter for me."
"No," she whispers, but her legs tighten around me, pulling me closer. "Please—"
I thrust into her in one brutal stroke, burying myself to the hilt. Her scream echoes through the forest, sending night birds scattering from nearby branches. I give her no time to adjust, pulling back and slamming into her again, setting a punishing rhythm that has her gasping with each thrust.
"This is what you needed," I growl in her ear as I fuck her against the tree, the rough bark scraping her back through her thin sweater. "This is what you've been craving. Someone to take control. Someone to see the darkness inside you and not look away."
Her only response is broken moans as I pound into her, her inner walls clenching around me with each thrust. I shift my angle slightly, making sure to hit that spot inside her with every stroke. Her nails dig into my shoulders, drawing blood through my shirt.
"That's it," I encourage as I feel her tightening around me. "Come for me. Show me how much you love being fucked by a monster."
Something in my words pushes her over the edge. Harbor comes with a shattered cry, her body convulsing around me, her inner muscles milking my cock as if desperate to draw out my own release. I fuck her through it, relentless, watching the pleasure-pain contort her beautiful face.
"Mine," I growl as my own orgasm builds, a white-hot pressure at the base of my spine. "You're fucking mine now."
I come with a roar, emptying myself deep inside her, marking her in the most primal way possible. For several long moments, we stay locked together, both of us panting, her legs still wrapped around my waist, my cock still buried inside her.
Slowly, I lower her to the ground, steadying her when her legs threaten to give out. In the moonlight, I can see the evidence of our encounter—the scratches on her throat and chest, the bruises forming on her wrists and thighs, the mixture of our fluids glistening on her inner thighs.
I reach up to remove my mask, letting her see my face, the hunger that still burns in my eyes despite my release.
"Still want to run?" I ask, tracing a finger along her jawline, feeling her tremble beneath my touch.
Harbor says nothing, but the defeat in her eyes tells me everything I need to know. She won't run again. Not tonight. Maybe not ever.
I smile, taking her hand and leading her back toward the cabin, back toward her new reality.
Mine.