Chapter 59
IVY
My pulse leaps. My breath catches.
He peels my top up and I obediently lift my arms. My nipples pebble hard against the cool breeze swirling around us. He presses my neck, forcing my breasts against the rough tree, scratching my flesh.
He yanks my shorts down, followed by my panties, pooling at my feet.
I squeeze my thighs together, the cool air teasing my pussy. I’m exposed. Vulnerable. His to take. To be claimed out here in the darkness of the woods. Against a tree. Better than I ever imagined.
His breath is hot on my ear.
My own breathing is still ragged as his hands slide down my lower abdomen.
His finger teases my clit, and I feel how wet I already am. How my body betrays me—aroused by the danger, the chase, the inevitable capture.
“Such a good little runner,” he murmurs, his voice low and dangerous. “But you can never outrun me. I’ll always find you.”
My hips buck as his finger circles—slow.
Deliberate. I’m pinned between his hard body and his hand.
Nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide. The forest around us is alive with sounds—rustling leaves, distant cries, the occasional crack of a branch—but all I can focus on is his touch and the heat building inside me.
“Were you scared?” he asks, teeth grazing my earlobe. “Or were you excited?”
I try to answer, but his hand stays firm over my mouth.
He doesn’t want a response. Not yet.
His other hand slides up, rough against my skin. He finds the piercing in my nipple and tugs it, sending a shock of pleasure and pain through my body. I moan against his palm.
Then he shoves me forward, hard against the bark, grinding my breasts into the rough tree. I whimper as one of my nipple bars snags on the bark.
He laughs softly, easing just enough pressure to release my nipple but keep me pinned.
“Those men would have hurt you,” he whispers, voice serious. “Do you understand that? They would have taken you, used you, sold you. And you ran straight into their territory.”
I nod, tears pricking—from fear, from arousal, from the overwhelming intensity of it all.
“You’re mine to chase,” he growls. “Mine to catch. Mine to punish.”
He grabs me by the back of my neck, forcing my face forward, directly into the tree now. My cheek scrapes against it. His body covers mine—overwhelming and inescapable.
I hear his zipper, and then his cock is pressing against me, hot and hard. “Is this what you wanted, Ivy?” His voice is almost tender now, a stark contrast to the predatory chase. “To be hunted? To be caught? To be fucked?”
He removes his hand from my mouth, finally allowing me to speak.
“Yes,” I gasp, my voice foreign. “God, yes.”
His laugh is dark and satisfied. “Such a twisted little thing you are.”
He enters me in one smooth thrust, filling me.
I cry out, the sound echoing through the trees.
His hand covers my mouth again. “Shh,” he whispers. “There are worse things than me in these woods.”
He moves, each thrust driving me harder against the tree. The rough bark scrapes my skin, adding another layer of sensation to the overwhelming pleasure. His pace is relentless, punishing, exactly what I need after the adrenaline of the chase.
“You think you know what you’re asking for,” he says between thrusts, his breath hot against my neck. “You think you understand the darkness. But you’ve barely scratched the surface, little poison.”
His words should terrify me. They don’t. They make me wetter, hungrier, more desperate for whatever he’s willing to give me.
“The Anything Goes has rules,” he continues, his voice strained with effort. “And consequences. Tonight was just a taste.”
His hand slides around to find my clit again, circling it in time with his thrusts. I’m close already, wound tight from the chase and the capture.
“Come for me,” he commands.
My body obeys before my mind can process the command. I shatter around him, my cry muffled by his hand, my body shaking with the force of my orgasm. He follows moments later, his rhythm breaking as he empties inside me.
For several long moments, we stay like that—me pressed against the tree, him pressed against me, both of us breathing hard. The forest seems to have gone quiet, as if holding its breath.
Finally, he pulls away, adjusting himself and his clothing before helping me with mine.
I’m shaky, disoriented, my mind still trying to process everything that’s happened.
“That was...” I begin, but can’t find the words to finish.
“Just the beginning,” Soren says, his eyes glinting in the moonlight. The mask is gone now, but something about his expression is still hidden, still dangerous. “You wanted to see my world, Ivy. This is just the threshold.”
He takes my hand, leading me through the woods.
“Where are we going?” I ask, stumbling on my sore ankle.
He stops, turning to look at me with an expression I can’t quite read. “Somewhere where you pretend you don’t want to be consumed by me,” he says softly. “And I pretend I’ll give you a choice.”
Before I can respond, he’s pulling me along again, and I follow. Because despite everything—the danger, the fear, the unknown—I’m more alive than I’ve ever been.
And I want more.
The walk back through the woods is silent, both of us lost in our own thoughts.
By the time we reach the edge of the trees, the sky is beginning to lighten with the first hints of dawn.
The clubs are closed now, the streets of the Anything Goes deserted save for a few stragglers making their way home.
Soren calls a car, and we wait on the corner, the early morning air cool against my skin. I’m exhausted, my body aching from the chase and everything that followed, but my mind is electric with new possibilities.
“Thank you,” I say finally, breaking the silence.
Soren raises an eyebrow. “For what?”
“For showing me more.”
He studies me for a long moment, his expression thoughtful.
“You’re welcome, Ivy.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.
“I’ll show you every part of my life, because it’s part of yours now, too.
But remember—knowledge comes with responsibility.
Now that you’ve seen, you can’t unsee.” He pauses. “And there’s no going back.”
The car arrives, sleek and black like the one that brought us here hours ago. As we slide into the backseat, Soren gives the driver our address.
The thought of our comfortable bed relaxes me even further. Exhaustion settles over me like a heavy blanket.
I let my head rest against his shoulder, my eyes drifting closed.
The last thing I remember before sleep claims me is Soren’s voice, low and possessive in my ear—
“Sweet dreams, little poison.”