3. Knox #2
I tiptoe through the cabin, wincing when every creak of the boards echoes loud in my ears. The bathroom window is still cracked. I hoist myself up and push it wider, squeeze through, my heart in my throat.
Then, breath shallow and heart rapping, I drop down once more and slip into the night.
The night air is sharp, the forest black and silver under the moon.
For ten minutes Irun, until I no longer see the faint light from his cabin through the trees.
Until my muscles scream and my lungs puff like bellows.
Behind me, the peak of his mountain soars black and ominous in the moonlight, and the lights from the town look so dauntingly far a whimper escapes me.
A sharp stone cuts through the thick wool guarding my feet, hard enough to make my eyes sting. I lean against a tree, gasping as the pain intensifies.
Then a rustle to my left has me freezing.
No roar rips through the night this time.
Yet my blood still ices.
Because I know it’s him.
He’s right there.
And before I can snatch in a breath or scream, his giant shadow separates from the inky blackness.
Strong arms close like manacles around me. My back slams into a tree, his massive frame caging me in.
“You never learn,” he growls, breath hot on my face.
“Let me go!” My fists beat his chest, useless.
His palm cups my jaw, tilts my face up. His eyes burn—dark and dangerous, cruel and hungry. “You hurt yourself again, didn’t you, little rabbit?”
“No. I’m fine,” I lie.
His face hardens. “Looks like I’m going to have to teach you the consequences of lies,” he rasps.
“What…what does that mean?”
“It means you get a different kind of punishment this time.” His mouth brushes my ear. “Let me oblige you, little rabbit.”
Before I can speak, he grips my dress and rips it clean in two.
Shock chokes me as I watch the dangling, ruined dress. “You bastard! What are you?—”
“Quiet,” he snarls, parts the fabric, stares down at my body in the moonlight. “Can’t run if you’re naked. Fuck, you’re a vision. Mine.”
“I’m not—” The words are drowned out by another wave of shock as the beast drops to his knees in front of me.
His hands move over me, but Irealizehe’s not touching my bare skin, just moving over the tattered fabric of my dress. Doesn’t matter. My body reacts the same, my nipples tightening as if he’s touched them, licked them, grazed them with his teeth.
I sag against the tree as his hands frame my hips.
“You called him your ex because it’s over, right?” he rasps gruffly, his dark eyes drilling into mine.
My head moves, and I’m not even sure if I’m fully cognizant of his question or if it’s just shock and deep, dark, insane arousal stirring inside me.
“Mine, even if he’s not,” he growls again, the primal possessiveness thickening his voiceandshooting an insane thrill through my bloodstream.
No. It’s the full moon. The mountain air. I’m sure of it. I’m a city girl, used to exhaust fumes and toxic masculinity.
I can’t be feeling this?—
I gasp when his hands close over the backs of my knees, roughly yanking my feet apart.
I’m still wearing my bra and panties, but the way his eyes lance over me, I might as well be naked.
And then he…oh God, this feral beast whose name I don’t even know…he sniffs me .
“I’ve smelled this wet little pussy all day. And you think you can run before I get a taste?” he rumbles, voice barely coherent.
But every octave sinks like a drug straight into my bloodstream. And something else is taking over me. Because the sight of this beast on his knees, slavering for me, shoots an alien sensation through me.
Power. Wild and dangerous.
The kind I thought only deities and higher beings experienced.
My eyelids fall to half-mast, and my hips shoot out almost of their own accord.
His hands spasm on my knees, and his face turns even more feral, his eyes aflame as he watches me. As he licks his lips and takes a longer, deeper inhale.
A growl erupts from his throat as I whimper. “You’re mine to taste now.”
“Yes,” falls from my lips even before he’s done speaking.
The first press of his mouth against me tears a cry from my throat. His tongue—rough, relentless—flickers over my cotton-covered pussy. Then his mouth is closing over me, licking, sucking, devouring. My knees shake, and my hands claw at his hair, tugging hard.
He groans against me like he’s starving.
I grind against his face, shame gone, pleasure burning through me. Every question is a demand, every lick an interrogation.
“What do you like, Lily?” he asks, lips wet against me. “Fast? Hard? Tell me.”
“Hard,” I whimper, thighs shaking. “Please?—”
“Bet he didn’t satisfy you like this,” he growls between licks. “Did he even know you liked this?”
“No,” I gasp, head falling back. “God, no?—”
“Thought so.” His mouth covers me again, tongue thrusting deep. “He’s a fucking idiot.”
A fast, ruthless tug of his hands, and my panties are also shredded, discarded, and forgotten on the forest floor.
Then his tongue is on my bare pussy. I scream at the first skin-to-skin lick. His tongue is rough, insistent, delving between my folds in a brazen gorging that makes me tremble from head to foot.
“Fuck. I knew you would taste incredible. You had to, didn’t you? Break me with a first taste?”
His mouth is pinned to my sex as he hoists me up. I instinctively wrap both legs around his shoulders, my fingers delving deeper into his hair, and he growls his approval.
Then this beast…whose name I still don’t know…is eating me out against his tree on top of his mountain.
He works my clit with mind-bending skill—harder, sucking, biting gently, then pointing his tongue-tip to draw my juices, grunting every time I gush for him.
“More, little rabbit. Give me more,” he grunts every few minutes.
And I give, and I give until I break.
My climax rushes through me, raw and blinding, and I cry out, clutching his head as the world spins to nothing.
Knox
Holy fuck.
The first taste of her.
I groan, sucking her through her release, licking every drop like it’s the only sustenance left on earth.
Five years without a woman.
Five years swearing I’d never lose myself again. And here I am, on my knees in the dirt, drunk on the taste of her.
She’s sweeter than a chokehold that won’t let go, headier than the roar of an adoring crowd onWrestleMania, and I can’t stop.
Her thighs tremble around my head, her cries soft and broken, and I want more. I want to learn every sound, every shiver, every secret her body’s kept from other men.
“One more,” I command.
Her head sinks weakly against the tree. My tree. My dirt. My fucking mountain.
My woman.
“No,” she whimpers. “T-too much.”
“Yes. Never too much. One more, little rabbit. You’re mine,” I rasp against her, licking slow now, teasing. “All mine. And I’ll be the only one who knows how to satisfy you.”
Her fingers twist in my hair, pulling. She looks down at me, dazed, lips swollen and cheeks flushed.
I’m staring deep into her eyes when I start to lick her again, twirling my tongue over her engorgedclit. She hisses and squirms, pulling tighter at my hair.
My cock throbs, wails in pain, surges, and jets pre-cum into my pants, but I don’t let up. I eat this fresh, perfect pussy, groaning at her honeyed taste, dying at how perfect she is. Her little hole is so fucking tight it’s clear she’s never been serviced properly.
Then I mourn because there’s no way this tight little cunt can take my fat girth. I was named The Grizzly because not a single part of my body is average.
So maybe this is all I’ll be able to do to this perfect littlepocket Venuswith the tightest cunt in existence.
But fuck if I don’t go for broke and draw every ounce of cream I can get from her.
“Come for me, beautiful rabbit. One more, baby. Gush for me. There’s a good girl.”
A cry builds in her panting chest.
Builds and builds and?—
I yank down her bra cups, groan as her beautiful hard-tipped breasts spill into my waiting hands. I catch the perfect buds between my fingers, pluck and tease and torment until she cries out again.
Then she releases into my waiting mouth. I drink her down, my eyes rolling into the back of my head, my balls screaming in agony.
I don’t even care that I’m one short heartbeat from coming in my pants.
That watching Lily shudder through her sublime climax is probably the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen on my mountain.
I lick her soft and long until she’s a pliant bundle against my tree.
Then rising, unable to stem the low and dangerous growl unfurling in my chest, I haul her into my arms. Her head lolls against my shoulder, eyes heavy-lidded, body limp with release.
Sexually sated. Sleepy. Perfect.
Docile. Fucking finally.
The moonlight paints her golden as I carry her back to my cabin. My lair.
Where she belongs.