Chapter 12
Ivy
My heart pounds in my chest as I sprint through the snow-covered woods, the cold air burning deep in my lungs with every inhale. I'm grateful I thought to grab my coat as I ran out the door, but the wind still cuts through me. I shouldn't be doing this. I should be running in the opposite direction and away from this mountain as fast as I can. But I'm not. I'm running through these woods excited and terrified at the same time.
I can't explain the connection I feel to him. Kris has this way of making me feel like I'm falling into a world I can't escape when I'm with him. I try to fight it, to resist, but I'm not sure I want to anymore. I know I should be cautious, but there's something wild and untamed about him. It's like I'm under some kind of spell, drawn to the danger that lurks beneath his surface.
I pump my arms harder as I race through the deep snow, my breath forming clouds in the freezing air. I know I have a good lead on Kris, but I want him to catch me. I want to find out what he'll do. I want him to show me the dark side of him that I know exists.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are," Kris calls from somewhere in the distance, his voice carrying through the stillness of the woods. My heart rate picks up, and I feel a rush of adrenaline course through my veins. I push myself faster, my feet sinking deep into the snow with each step.
I'm gasping for air, the cold nipping at my cheeks as I glance back over my shoulder. The woods stretch out endlessly, the trees looming over me. Each step becomes a struggle. I can feel the burn in my legs, but I push myself to keep running. The low branches of the trees scrape against my face, and I can't help but let out a cry of frustration.
Before I even realize what has happened, I'm falling. I stumble forward, my arms flailing as I try to catch myself. I tripped over something hidden beneath the snow. My ankle twists painfully, and I fall hard, the impact knocking the wind out of me.
I lie there for a moment, dazed and struggling to breathe. The snow is cold against my cheek, and I can taste blood in my mouth where I bit my tongue. I know Kris is getting closer every second I lay here .
I have to get up.
I push myself up onto my hands and knees. My ankle is killing me, and I can feel it swelling inside of my boot. I'm scared, truly scared, for the first time since I arrived in Hemlock Hollow.
What the fuck is wrong with me that I'm turned on by this?
I'm all alone in the woods with a man I barely know, a man who might have impulses darker than I even imagined.
I scramble to my feet, ignoring the pain. I need to put some distance between us. I force myself to walk, gritting my teeth against the pain.
I know I can't outrun Kris now, and I start to panic. I limp forward, my ankle sending shooting pains up my leg with every step. I know I don't have much time. I have to find a hiding place. I know I can't keep this up for much longer.
Up ahead, a jagged alcove in the rocks catches my eye. I dart toward it, tucking myself inside just as I hear Kris’s voice echoing through the trees. “Cherry! Come out and play.”
A thrill runs through me at the thought of him prowling these woods like a predator hunting his prey.
I crouch down low, pressing my back against the cool rock feeling the chill seep thought my clothes. There’s hardly any snow in here; it’s almost dry. My heart pounds in my chest as I hold my breath, straining to listen. He won’t find me if I stay quiet.
A moment stretches into eternity as silence envelops me, broken only by the whisper of wind outside. My heart is in my throat as I hold my breath, cowering in my hiding spot.
Then, a hand shoots out, grabbing my ankle and yanking my leg out from under me. I cry out, falling forward and catching myself on my hands. Before I can scramble away, Kris is on me, his body pressing me into the hard, cold ground.
"This wasn't a bad hiding spot, Cherry. It could've been better if your tracks didn't lead right to it and your red hair wasn't waving like a flag in the wind from behind the rock."
"Kris," I wiggle, testing his grip, but he doesn't budge. Instead, he leans closer, his breath tickling my ear.
"Scared, Cherry? Or excited?" His hand slides up my leg, and I suppress a gasp. I shouldn't like this. I should be pushing him away, fighting this, but my body betrays me, wanting more.
Without warning, he flips me over, onto my back.
"I owe you a punishment, Cherry. Do you understand why?"
I nod, biting my lip.
"I need to hear it. Tell me why I have to punish you." His eyes bore into mine, demanding an answer.
"Because… because I ran from you and didn't let you explain," I stammer, feeling a mix of shame and arousal.
He pulls out a whip from inside his jacket, and my breath catches in my throat. "Since you came out on your own earlier, I'll only give you five strikes instead of ten. Do you understand?"
My mouth goes dry as I nod wordlessly. I contemplate the sting of the whip against my skin. Part of me craves the release that comes with the pain.
"Pull your pants down to your knees and get on all fours," he commands, his voice leaving no room for negotiation
I do as he says, my fingers trembling as I unbutton my jeans. I lower my pants, exposing my bare skin to the cold air. I feel vulnerable and exposed, positioning myself on the ground, but a part of me likes it.
With a swift motion, Kris brings the whip down across my ass. The crack of the leather fills the air, and I cry out, my body instinctively tensing at the sting. I feel the heat of the blow spreading across my skin, and I know the mark of the whip will be there for days to come.
"Count, Cherry," Kris prompts me, his voice steady.
"One," I whisper, steeling myself for the next strike.
I hear Kris move behind me, the crunch of leaves and sticks under his boots breaking the stillness of the moment. He steps into my line of sight, holding an icicle that glimmers in the dim light.
“Stick out your tongue." He brings the icy stick to my mouth, moving it slowly across my tongue.
"Make sure it's smooth,” he says, his eyes locked on mine.
Then, he moves behind me again, and I feel the chill of the ice slide across my skin, tracing the same path that the whip took across my ass. The icy cold against my hot skin feels amazing, and I can't help but let out a moan.
He brings the whip down again, and I cry out, my body jerking at the impact.
"Two," I choke out, my eyes squeezed shut as I surrender to the pain.
The whip falls again. I can feel the heat rising on my skin, the sting of the leather.
"Three. "
The icicle returns to my ass, gliding across my skin. The cold ice soothing the burn and numbing the pain. I'm a mess of conflicting sensations—pain, pleasure, fear, and desire all rolled into one. I'm burning up with anticipation, my skin still stinging from the strikes. I arch my back, pushing my ass toward him, silently asking for more.
Then Kris moves the icicle lower, teasing the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. A shiver runs through me, and I instinctively spread my legs wider.
The icicle stills for a moment, and I hold my breath. He begins to trace the icicle along my folds, the wetness already gathered there betraying my arousal.
"You're so fucking wet," Kris whispers, his hot breath fanning over the sensitive skin of my neck. His fingers gently spread me open, leaving me fully exposed to the cold and to him.
He holds the icicle just outside my entrance, teasing me, never quite giving me what I crave. "Please."
Kris chuckles, "Please what, Cherry? Tell me what you want."
"Please, I need more," I plead, my cheeks burning with shame and desire.
I feel the icicle push into me slowly, inch by inch. I gasp at the sensation— it's so cold that it's almost painful, but it only heightens my arousal. I push back against it, wanting it deeper.
The icicle twists inside of me, sending shocks of pleasure throughout my body. This mix of extreme sensations is overwhelming. But then it's gone, leaving me feeling empty, aching and wanting more.
"If you want it back inside you, you're going to have to beg me for it."
"Yes, please, I want it," I say almost breathlessly, my hips moving involuntarily as I grind against his hand. I'm so close to the edge that any little touch could send me spiraling over.
With a devilish smile, Kris obliges, slides the icicle slowly back into my pussy. I cry out, the sensation of being stretched and filled, even by something so thin and cold, is immense.
He pulls the icicle out slowly, torturously, then inserts it again. In and out. A steady rhythm.
"Please, Kris," I beg, needing something more, something to push me over the edge.
I'm so lost in the sensations Kris is creating inside of me; the crack of his whip startles me. This time, it lands on the back of my upper thighs, just below where he is teasing me with the icicle. Instead of pain, I feel a wave of pleasure that takes my breath away. I let out a moan, wanting more, needing to feel the whip again.
"Count," Kris reminds me, his voice pulling me back into the moment.
"Four."
He brings the whip down again.
"Five," I choke out, knowing the punishment is over. But I'm not sure I want it to be. I want more.
All my senses seem heightened. I become aware of every nerve ending in my body. I ache for his touch, craving more of the sensations he's invoking in me. I want to feel his hands on me, possessing me.
Every part of me wants to be claimed by him, taken by him. If I was being honest with myself, I wouldn't care if he was the Huntsman, or not. I'm in too deep now. I want to explore this side of myself that I never knew existed.
"Naughty girls need to be punished, but they also get rewarded if they please me. And Cherry, you've fucking pleased me."
I whimper, a mix of anticipation and apprehension coursing through me. I have no idea what Kris will do next, and that excites me more than anything .
"Spread your legs wide for me." His fingers trace the path of the whip while he fucks me with the icicle, sending shivers through my body. "Do you know how sexy you look like this, spread out wide for me on the ground? My marks across your pretty little ass. So willing to take your punishment and eager for more?"
"Yes," I whisper, my cheeks flaming with desire and embarrassment.
"Good girl," he murmurs, his fingers still reverently caressing the marks left by the whip. "Now ask me for your reward."
"Please, Kris," my voice sounds desperate even to me, as the icicle withdraws. "Can I have my reward?"
Kris continues to weave this spell over me. Time seems to stand still as he explores my body, leaving no inch of exposed skin untouched. I'm alive, trembling on the edge between pleasure and pain.
His fingers ghost over my slick folds. Mixing my arousal with the melting ice. I gasp, my body reacting to the lightest touch.
"Ever since the first time I laid eyes on you I’ve wanted to live inside this pussy," Kris growls, his hands grasping my hips.
"Please," I beg, feeling desperate and wanting him more than I thought possible.
“Use your words, Cherry. Tell me what you want.” He circles his fingers over my clit, bringing me closer to the edge.
"I need you inside me.” I beg shamelessly, my fingers digging into the icy ground beneath me. His touch is electric, lighting up every nerve ending, and I crave more. “Fuck me, Kris."
I feel his hard length press against me, “Yeah? You want my cock inside that tight pussy?”
“Oh God, yes,” I whimper.
"You've been a very good girl for me, Cherry. It's time for your reward." He slowly pulls the icicle from my pussy, sliding it up to my ass before circling it around my tight hole. "Have you ever been fucked here?"
"No."
"Good, I'll be the only one who ever will." I hear what's left of the icicle clatter to the ground and then his fingers are digging into my hips, pulling me back towards him as he positions himself behind me. "I'll save that treat for another time."
He begins pushing inside of me in one smooth motion. I cry out, my body arching back against him. His cock is so thick and warm, every inch of him stretches me in the best possible way. It's a stark contrast to the cold icicle, and I moan at the feel of him moving inside of me.
"Fucking hell, you feel so good,” he groans. "Is this what you wanted? My cock buried deep inside you?" Kris grinds his hips as he pulls me back onto him, controlling the rhythm. “You like that, don't you? Feeling me stretch you open?" I can feel every inch of him as he slides in and out, filling me completely.
"Yes," I whisper, my breath catching in my throat. "I need more. Please, Kris."
He pulls out almost completely, leaving me feeling empty, then thrusts back into me, hard. His hips slam into mine, his body claiming mine with each powerful thrust. The world around us melts away, leaving only the two of us, consumed by each other.
"Oh, fuck, Kris," I moan, my body moving in rhythm with his.
His grip tightens, almost painfully, as he drives into me again and again. I can feel the rough edges of the whip marks brushing against his skin, and it only fuels my desire.
"This tight pussy was made just for me, wasn't it?" His voice is strained. "Tell me it's mine, Cherry. Beg me to use your pretty little cunt."
"It's yours, all yours," I pant, my words coming out in desperate gasps. "Use me any way you want. Just keep fucking me, please."
"Fuuuck, you take it so well. You’re gripping me so tight. I bet you're hoping I'll fill that sweet cunt with my come, aren't you?" He groans, his hands sliding up my body, his fingers tangling in my hair. He pulls my head back, pulling me back so my body is flush against his as he continues to fuck me. The movement exposes my neck, and he bites down gently, sending shivers throughout my body.
"Kris," I moan, my body moving with his, our rhythm perfectly in sync. "I need—”
"You need what? Tell me, Cherry."
"I need to come," I admit, my cheeks flaming. "Please, make me come."
"Not yet, baby. I’m not done feeling you wrapped around my cock.”
Kris thrusts into me, his hips slamming against me. The force of his thrusts rocks my body forward with each stroke. He fucks me with a primal need, like he can't get enough of me, and it's driving me wild.
"You feel so goddamn good. I could fuck you forever." Kris whispers in my ear, his breath hot against my neck. I feel his teeth sink into the sensitive skin of my neck again, and I cry out, the sensation shooting straight to my core.
"Yes," I cry out, my body on fire. "Kris, I need it. I'm so close."
"Not yet," he teases, slowing his thrusts. "I want you to beg for it."
I'm so wound up that the pause almost hurts. "Please, Kris. Please let me come."
"Good girl. That's what I like to hear."
With a few more sharp thrusts, he pushes me over the edge. "Come for me, Cherry. Let me feel it."
My body listens to his command, and I give in to the pleasure. My orgasm crashes over me, wave after wave of pleasure rippling through my body to my core. I cry out, my nails digging into the frozen ground beneath me, leaving crescent-shaped marks in the earth. My body is his to command, I’m unable to do anything but surrender to him. My inner walls clench and tighten around him, refusing to let go.
"I'm not gonna last," Kris grunts, his breath catching as he teeters on the edge of his own release. "I'm gonna fill you up, Cherry. Gonna mark you as mine." I want to tell him that he already owns me, that my body is his to do with as he pleases. Then, with a few more thrusts, his body tenses as he follows me over the edge. “Fuck, that’s it, take it,” he grits out, his release flooding into me.
Kris collapses on top of me, his body covering mine possessively. I can feel his heart pounding against my back, his warm breath ragged in my ear.
I can't speak, my body still throbbing with the aftershocks of my orgasm. The cold ground beneath me is forgotten, my entire being focused on the connection between our bodies. We stay like that for a moment, catching our breath, our bodies still connected. I feel boneless, sated and thoroughly fucked, but I still ache for more. More of this, more of him, and I don’t think I’ll ever stop now that I’ve experienced Kris Kincaid.
He eventually pulls out of me, and I feel his release start to leak out of me. He presses a soft kiss to my neck, while using his fingers to gather it and push it back inside of me.
"Come on, let's get you back to the cabin. You have to be freezing." He helps me up, his arms wrapping around me possessively. I lean back against him, still feeling dazed by the intensity of what we just shared.
I take a step forward, and pain shoots up my leg, causing me to stumble. I've forgotten about my injured ankle in the midst of everything that just happened .
Kris grabs my arm, steadying me. "What's wrong?"
"I tripped when I was running earlier. With all the snow, I couldn't see what I tripped over. I think it's just a sprain."
"Let's get you back to the cabin. We'll get some ice on that ankle."
As we make our way back through the snow-covered forest, I lean on him more than I'd like to admit. The pain in my ankle is sharp, and I can't put much weight on it. Kris doesn't seem to mind, though, and he supports me easily, his arm wrapped securely around my waist.
Back at the cabin, Kris helps me inside and sits me down on the couch. He grabs a first aid kit and begins carefully wrapping my ankle.
"Kris, will you tell me more about the Huntsman? I ask, my curiosity getting the better of me. "How did it all begin? Why would your family start something like this?"
Kris pauses for a moment, his hands stilling on my ankle. "It goes back generations. My great-great-grandfather was the original Huntsman. He had a need to kill, to punish. He enjoyed the hunt, and he found an outlet for his urges. It was in his blood, just like it's in mine."
I swallow, my throat suddenly dry, and he continues. "The first time he killed was on Christmas Eve. It doesn't take long in a small town for the locals to start telling stories and spreading rumors. And so, the Huntsman lore began. It also served as a way to cover up his... extracurricular activities. They made him into a mythical figure, a warning to keep everyone in line. But the truth is he was just a man with a darkness inside he couldn't contain."
I wince as Kris finishes wrapping my ankle. The pain is throbbing, but it's already starting to feel better. I shift my position on the couch, and Kris places an ice pack on my ankle.
"Better?" He asks and the genuine concern he has for me is obvious.
"Yeah, thank you. I think it's fine, I'll just be sore for a few days." Needing to know more I ask, "And your family... they all had the same urges?"
He meets my eyes and nods. "When he noticed the same tendencies and urges in his son, he passed on his knowledge and the Huntsman identity. It's been passed down through every generation ever since."
"So, the Huntsman of Hemlock Hollow is very much real. And I'm his latest prey."
"Prey, plaything, lover... You can call it whatever you want, but that's not fucking happening. My brother isn't getting his hands on you. I've made it clear to him you're mine and nothing will change that. "
"This is a lot to take in."
He smiles, his eyes softening a little. "I know. It's a lot."
"So, what now?"
"For now, you need rest and to let that ankle heal. Anything else we can figure out later."