Chapter 11
eleven
She runs.
Like prey. Full-bodied. Frantic. Unthinking.
And fuck, if it isn’t beautiful.
The rain started minutes ago, thin needles against my skin at first—now heavier, relentless. Mud slicks the forest floor, soaking through my hoodie, but I don’t care. Not when she’s ahead of me, her pink dress stained crimson, legs pumping beneath the hem like she’s trying to escape gravity itself.
She won’t.
I’m not chasing her to catch her.
I’m chasing her to free her.
As she approaches the slope of a hill, she stumbles, catching herself on a tree with a gasping sob.
But like a phoenix rising from the ruins, she pushes off again.
She flounders without direction, aiming in one direction, then another.
There’s no end to this forest. Just roots and darkness, and the sound of me.
Behind her. Beneath her skin. Inside her.
The smell of blood fades with the rain, but not hers. Earthy, electric... It clings to me. Like her body’s rewriting the rules of nature to create my personal aphrodisiac. I inhale it, and it hits like a drug, spiking through every nerve ending, dialing the obsession to eleven.
Run, Chrysalis.
Slow and heavy are my footsteps. Letting her hear me now. A branch breaks beneath my foot. She scrambles forward on all fours before shoving herself to her feet and bolting again.
God, she’s perfect.
I could end this. Could tackle her into the mire and take everything between her legs. Make her fight me... But I won’t. Not yet.
Because this?
This is foreplay.
Limbs trembling, pace uneven...she’s losing steam.
Eventually, she crashes into a low branch and yelps. That’s when I make my move.
The distance narrows in one breath, my boots churning through the soaked leaves. She hears me just before I reach her.
Eyes wide, she turns, her lips parted in fear.
I crash into her like a wave, catching her waist and spinning her back into the trunk of a tree.
The impact steals her air, and I use the moment to slam one palm beside her head, the other wrapping around her throat—firm, not crushing.
Just enough to remind her I’m here. That she’s safe from everything… Everything except me.
A raw, guttural scream rips from somewhere deep in her lungs.
But I cut it off with a simple squeeze of my hand.
“You’re safe now,” I growl softly, greeting her hips with the rigid urgency between mine, finally allowing her to feel every aching inch of me. “You’re exactly where you need to be.”
“With you?” she gasps, panicked. Shaking her head rapidly, she says, “I’ve seen what you’re capable of. I’m not interested in being one of your victims.”
My teeth clamp down. “You think I’d cut you like that? No, Chrysalis.” With my free hand, I dig into my pocket, produce my penknife, and flick it open. Rain glimmers off the steel as her eyes grow wide. I hold it high for her to see. “Not unless you want me to.”
Frantically, she digs into my forearm, nails slipping against the soaked fabric. Her knees buckle, but I hold her upright, pinned between bark and body. Thumb trailing down the column of her neck, I relish her pulse pounding underneath it.
“No. No, thank you.”
Her fear makes me harder, especially as her body squirms and shifts in the right spot against my zipper. Diving into her neck, I press my lips against the throb to feel it on my tongue.
“But you want this,” I say, voice deep against her ear. My cock pulses inside my jeans, the only relief coming from frotting it against her, stabbing the length into her soft curves. Every instinct I have urges me to set myself free.
She thrashes, but writhes in response. “No…”
I press my body closer, grinding into her, panting out clouds of heated breaths as I seep from the tip of my cock. Urgently needing to be in her pussy. It’s seeking home, one only she can provide.
“Your body’s a fucking liar. You’re soaked. And not just from the rain… You’ve wanted this.” Then, I repeat the words I’ve read in her diary. “To be chased. To be hunted. To be caught.”
Her breath hitches, but when I slide a thigh between her legs, her hips involuntarily shift on it like she’s ready to ride. Blinking off rain, she whispers, “You’re wrong.”
My thumb presses lightly against her pulse, reveling in its frenzied rhythm. “Then why are you gripping my arm like you’re terrified I’ll let go?”
Her breaths come in gasps—half sob, half denial.
“You’ve been screaming for someone to rescue you,” I murmur as now both of us move together, rhythmically, deliberately, grinding harder against each other as if our lower bodies need to mesh.
“Someone who doesn’t believe your perfect lies.
Someone strong enough to break you apart and gentle enough to put you back together. ”
She shudders beneath me, a tear escaping down her cheek that melts with the weather. “Please…don’t—” But she’s nodding lazily, her lies giving way to the truth.
I drag the tip of my blade lightly down her collarbone, feather-soft—just enough to tease the edge of danger. Her entire body goes rigid, the whites of her eyes visible around the irises, breath held high in her chest.
“Relax,” I whisper, but it’s more like a velvety threat.
“If I wanted to hurt you, you’d already be bleeding.
Instead, I’m gonna do something far worse.
” I slip the blade down, trace the generous curve of her waist, then underneath the fabric of her skirt, and up between her trembling thighs.
Using the plastic hilt, I rub at the apex of her heat, pressing possessively against her pussy over her panties.
“I’m gonna make you admit that you want me as much as I want you. ”
A strangled sob escapes her lips as she arches instinctively into my touch, hips betraying her instantly. “I don’t?”
With a chuckle, I ask my own question. “Lying again?” I tease darkly, rubbing torturously as she trembles. “You’re practically begging for me right here, aren’t you?”
She moans a defeated sound, head falling back against the tree, exposing her throat fully—trusting me, surrendering. I reward her bravery by sliding my fingers along her soaked panties, circling without penetrating. Her body jerks toward mine in helpless need.
“You want more?” I ask as I scoop my full length against her. My voice turns tender, dangerously soothing. “Then say it. Beg me properly. Tell me that you trust me enough to break through to you. The real you. That I’m the only one twisted enough to make you whole again.”
Another gasp escapes her plush lips, and her eyes focus on my mask.
Like she’s startled that someone understands.
She shakes her head. But she’s crying now, while her core presses hard on my upper thigh, almost writhing on me and taking the knife deeper.
I know what her body’s saying, even if her mouth lies.
“I’m not… I’m not saying that,” she pants, back stiff. But when I press a finger against her entrance, she grips my forearm and whimpers.
“You want to be owned by someone who understands you completely.”
Shoving her panties aside, I shift the knife toward her entrance.
More whimpers flee her lips as her head hits the bark with a soft thud. Dark hair clings to her cheeks. Damn! She’s so fucking gorgeous.
Eyes closed, her breathing quickens, and I trace the shell of her ear with my lips, murmuring, “I’m waiting, Chrysalis.”
Defiance flares in her gaze as it snaps to me, and it makes my heart fucking soar. “I don’t beg.”
“You will,” I promise, thumb hovering just over her clit, blade between her parted thighs. “But don’t worry, I promise to be insufferably smug when you do.”
She lets out a startled, sarcastic laugh, which only makes her breasts jiggle until I feel like I could explode. “God, you’re arrogant.”
“Only because I’m right,” I whisper as I place tantalizing kisses against her pulse. “And you’re dripping the proof all over my fingers.”
“It’s raining,” she counters with tight lips.
“Oh, sweet sister,” I snort, then press the knife in deeper until she gasps. “See how easily this slides in? That isn’t rain. But nice try.”
Her hips twitch forward slightly, betraying her further. She uses my arm as leverage, and I dip the hilt inside another inch. “If you think this little show of dominance is going to impress me—”
“I don’t,” I interrupt smoothly, thumb teasing her clit with lazy circles. “Because this isn’t about dominance, Olivia. It’s about honesty. Admit it; you’re curious how far I’ll go.”
Unleashing a beautiful sob of pleasure, she shifts so the knife goes farther inside of her, taking my fingers with it. “You’re insane.”
“If I were,” I concede, “then I’m the only lunatic here who knows exactly what you need—and I promise I’ll make you love every depraved second of it.”
As I pull out slightly, she grunts. “Is that supposed to scare me?”
“No.” My teeth scrape against her jaw. “That’s foreplay. This”—I push my needy cock against her hip, rock-hard and unmistakable—“is your future favorite addiction.”
Her lips part on a shaky breath, momentarily speechless. I seize the moment, my voice a silken threat.
“Ready to beg yet, or do I need to keep teasing your pride until it breaks, too?”
With a simpering sob, she grasps my wrist, but she doesn’t push me away. It’s almost as if she’s holding me exactly where she needs.
Arduously, I thrust my dick against her softness. My head buries into her neck as I breathe in her warm, floral scent. Familiar and soothing. She moans, her hips dancing over my fingers, and the knife plunges deeper inside.
I lift my face to stare into hers, her eyes unfocused as she beholds my mask. Carefully, delicately, I slip my first finger inside her as she bucks.
“I-I…” she protests, but scoops down to take more. Obscene, erotic sounds fill the air as I fuck her deeper with the knife, my hips taking on a life of their own. Our rhythms sync until my cock is ready to expel everything, and the beat in her neck escalates to a rapid pace.