Chapter 22 #2
But I’ve thought about it and there’s no going back.
I feel my lips peel up into a smile, though I don’t have time to think about why the Hell I would be smiling at a time like this.
My fingers are already gripped tightly on the door handle.
I shove my shoulder against the door, forcing it open and let myself tumble from the car.
Covering my head with my arms, I let the momentum take me.
My body bounces and rolls, careening straight down a hill and into the woods below.
The frigid night air stings against my heated skin.
Branches nip at my arms and legs, scratching my skin as I plummet downward.
My stomach crashes into the trunk of a heavy oak tree, stopping my movement and forcing my breath out in a gasp.
The sound of screeching tires echoes through the woods, reminding me that I can’t stop.
The bark of the tree scratches my palms as I hoist my aching body up.
Fallen leaves tickle my ankles as my heels sink into the moist dirt below.
Knowing that I won’t get far with the inconvenient shoes, I rip them off and toss them behind me.
My eyes dart around, scanning the trees for a path.
A round, autumn moon hangs high overhead, bathing the area in a faint, silver light.
With no straightforward path ahead, I rush forward, darting around stumps and trees.
For the second time tonight, I run as fast as my legs will carry me.
Ignoring the biting pain in my feet, I dash over sharp rocks and upturned sticks.
My heart thunders in my chest. I suck in deep breaths, my lungs burning against the cold air. I pump my legs desperately. Branches whip by, slashing my legs and ankles as I sprint. I refuse to look down at the damage they’ve caused. I refuse to acknowledge the pain radiating up my legs.
When it feels like I’ve run for miles, the pain has become dull.
My legs are shaking and numb from the cold.
I press my hands into the bark of a huge tree, using it to keep myself upright as I circle around it.
Behind the shade of the looming tree, where all the moonlight is blocked, I let myself fall to the ground.
I press my hands to my mouth to quiet my breathing.
As my body calms, I realize how cold I am.
If I don’t get out of here, I’ll freeze to death.
I pull my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around myself.
I reach around myself, feeling under my arm for my purse, only to realize that it isn’t there.
Did I leave it in his car? Did I even have it when I got into the car?
Realizing that there’s no way for me to get help without my phone, my eyes fill with tears.
They stream down my cheeks, leaving cold trails behind.
“It’s okay,” I whisper. “It’s going to be okay. You just have to wait him out. He’ll leave. You’re not worth the trouble. He’ll see that. Then when he’s gone, you can find a way out of here and get help.”
Hours, or maybe only minutes, pass while I sit with my back against the hard tree bark and listen.
The muted sounds of the forest float around me.
A soft wind howls, rustling the branches of nearby trees.
Crispy leaves clatter against each other as the wind carries them.
Somewhere in the distance, an animal chitters.
I close my eyes and listen to the symphony of the forest.
A sharp crack sounds behind me as a branch snaps. My eyes rocket open. A startled scream climbs up my throat. It barely passes my lips before it’s smothered by a hand clamping down over my mouth. My body is yanked up and pulled against a hard chest.
The scent of vanilla and leather surrounds me, invading my senses. Gray's hands grip my upper arms, pinning my back to his chest. Without my permission, my body sinks back into the delicious warmth of his body.
His arm wraps around my stomach, tightly securing our bodies together. He leans down until I feel his hot breath against my neck. Goosebumps prickle over my skin and I shiver. I try to tell myself that it's a reaction from the cold and not his nearness.
His voice rumbles in my ear. “Hasn't anyone ever told you, you can't run from monsters?”
I lift my foot and jab it out behind me.
It meets its target, connecting with his shin.
Unfortunately, with my near-frozen bare feet, my hit has all the power of a rabbit hitting a black bear.
Realizing how epically my attack has failed, I lace my voice with as much venom as I can before I spit at him, “Fuck you.”
His hand wraps around my throat. His thumb presses into my chin, forcing my gaze upward. He stares down at me, his blue eyes sparkling with humor. The edges wrinkle as he laughs.
“Oh, little bird,” he says, “I'll fuck you.” He leans down, letting his lips brush against my forehead. He whispers against my hairline, “But only when you beg me for it.”
The hand at my throat tightens just enough to make me gasp. His palm presses down against my sternum until my knees buckle. I expect the ground to rise up and crash into my already aching knees, but it doesn't. With his arm banded tightly around my waist, he lowers me slowly.
My face crinkles in confusion. My mind flounders, flopping between being utterly petrified and slightly swoony from his gentle touch and the warmth of his body against mine. I mentally slap myself and try to push the idea of swooning for my stalker very far from my mind.
As my knees make contact with the ground, fallen leaves crackle and crunch. Twigs and plant litter scrape against my bare legs. The earthy smell of soil and decay wafts up from beneath me.
He kneels down at my side, never taking his hands off me.
The leaves shift under me, sending prickles and itches skittering across my skin.
The hand at my throat falls away. I shift my knees, trying to pivot my body to put space between us.
The arm around my waist tightens almost to the point of pain.
The other lands between my shoulder blades.
With one quick shove, my chest collides with the ground. I turn my head sharply just before, making my cheek scrape against the dirt. I sputter and spit against a leaf that's slipped between my lips.
I'm trapped, unmoving with his body pressed tightly against my side and my face in the dirt. Humiliation becomes a hot, acidic feeling bubbling in my stomach.
A cold breeze whips by, lashing against my skin.
I shudder, suddenly keenly aware that I'm entirely on display, my rear up in the air and panties missing.
Tears burn in my eyes, some sliding down my cheeks and creating tiny mud puddles on the ground.
The sound that escapes my lips can't be described as anything other than a pathetic whine.
“Do not fucking run from me again,” he growls against my neck. “My patience isn't limitless, and tonight, it's run out.”
I squeak in surprise when he grips my hip and yanks my body into his lap, my stomach landing over his thighs. His fingers dig into my skin, surely bruising. I can feel his hard length pressed against my waist. My stomach flips as I try desperately not to think about his cock.
His other hand trails up my leg until it's resting on my ass. His palm rubs a slow circle against my cheek. He repeats the action on the other side. My skin tingles under his touch. When he pulls away, I feel the loss immediately. My skin feels too tight, too cold, too desperate for his warmth.
The air whistles behind me before lightning strikes my ass.
A horrible sting lights my nerve endings on fire.
I'm not sure the pain registers before or after I hear the slap of his open palm against my skin for a second time.
I don't know when the screeching howl explodes from my lips.
Is it an echo I hear bouncing between the trees, or am I screaming again?
Rapid slaps thunder against my aching backside. I wiggle and shift in his grasp, trying to get away from the burning ache that rains down on my sensitive globes. “Stop, stop,” I sob.
His breath is hot against my neck when he speaks. “You need to understand who's in charge here, precious. You. Belong. To. Me,” he growls, punctuating each word with a painful smack.
I listen to the sound of his hand connecting with my ass and the symphony of my pitiful cries.
My body feels like it's covered in molten lava.
The tiny reprieve between hits seems shorter and shorter.
The cold night air scarcely touches me. Each time he spanks me, the burning embers light anew, igniting my skin.
“Will you run from me again?” His chest rumbles with his demand. The deep bass of his voice booms against my ear, sending shivers down my spine.
Will I? Wouldn't I be crazy not to? Wouldn't it be the definition of insanity not to run from a man who hurts me like this?
Who humiliates me like this? It's true; it must be.
And yet somehow, underneath the fiery pain, something else is blossoming inside me.
Something that makes my core clench. This demanding thing inside me that wants to give in to him.
“No,” I whisper into the dirt.
“Apologize,” he commands. “Apologize to your master.”
I hate that word. Master. I hate how it sounds in his grumbling voice. I hate how it calls to that awful, needy thing inside me. I hate how it makes me shift my hips, pressing my thighs together. I hate that I can feel the wetness dripping between them.
“I-I'm sorry,” I whine.
His hand slams down on me again, this time harder. My jaw clenches so hard that I can feel my teeth scraping together. My mind staggers, cluttered and confused. The tiny, frightened voice inside my head begins screaming, I said what he wanted! I said I was sorry. Why hasn't he stopped?