2. Ace
Ace
The afternoon had been a slow defeat. Empty traps, stolen bait—just snagged cages and silence. By the time I stomped back toward the cabin, my mood was foul as it was.
Then she appeared.
A tangle of red hair stuck to her flushed cheeks, sweat gliding over freckled skin. Eyes green as the pines choking these woods—wide, unblinking. Spread across the ground as she took me in. Like a rabbit caught in a snare, waiting for its end.
My stomach clenches at the recent memory, but not from hunger for the food I could’ve had.
Now look at her, kneeling in the dirt, lips parted, with a wide-eyed look that has all the blood in my body roaring south.
My cock hardens, straining against my jeans like it meant to tear through the zipper. All she has to do is lower her gaze, and she’ll see it. Before she can, I move.
Without a word, I pull her pack from her shoulders. Hooking my finger in the small loop, it’s almost funny how easily she lets me. If I have to guess, it’s because she’s caught off guard. Too shocked to react quickly enough.
As she rises unsteadily, my hand finds her arm to steady her. Sunlight catches the dust swirling around her—pale skin gilded with earth, strands of hair clinging to her damp neck. When she shifts her weight, my gaze flickers downward instinctively, catching the shadowed warmth between her thighs.
For a minute, I forget how rude it is to stare. This pull she has on me is like sharp nails digging deep, keeping my eyes on where I want to touch her instead.
I force my eyes upward before they linger too long, but the image stays with me.
Her gasp is sharp in the humid air as I hoist her up effortlessly, like lifting kindling. Before she can protest, she’s draped over my shoulder, her hip grazing my ear as she squirms.
“Hey! I can walk—” Her voice cracks, half-anger, half-panic. Fingers scramble for purchase, hooking into my belt loops like they’re lifelines. The heat of her palms burns through denim. “I haven’t even told you where to go!”
Doesn’t matter. I know exactly where she belongs.
In my cabin, on my bed, with my tongue on her skin, once this hunger ripping through my gut finally wins.
I’m not the only one driven mad. All I have to do is breathe in, and I can smell it. Her arousal.
My boots crunch faster, my pulse racing.
This woman is mine. I’ve already decided on it. She’ll be my meal tonight.
Halfway through the hike back, her squirming slows and soon gives up altogether. Like a sack, she sighs.
“Where is everyone? Why haven’t we passed by a single person?” She’s still agitated. Her breath tickles my tailbone.
“Dangerous. Too much wildlife,” I explain, and feel the way her body responds to my voice. She shivered as if a chill had run along her spine. “Locals stay away from this part of the mountain.”
“You can speak. Where are you taking me?” Just like that, she’s jerking again, demanding answers.
Grunting when her foot hits a little too close to my erection, I growl and tighten my grip on her thighs before slapping my palm against her ass. “ Settle .”
That’s all it takes for her to listen. It’s what makes the other half of the hike a silent, peaceful one. The yelp and gasp that leaves her lips is the final one.
Once we reach my cabin, I take her straight to the front door. Abandoning her pack against the porch, I carry her inside.
Already knowing where I’m taking her, she groans as I turn. Heading to my bedroom, the first sound that leaves her is relief when I drop her onto the mattress. Her face is flushed, and her eyes are dizzy. Must’ve had all the blood rush to her head, if I have to guess.
She won’t be dizzy for long.
My knees hit the floorboards hard enough to shake the walls.
Her gasp follows—sharp, startled. Now she’s wide-eyed. Present.
Exactly where I want her.
I see my rabbit looking perfect like this, limbs splayed across my sheets, soon to be permanently imprinted in the fabric. Soon, her scent will soak into these threads until every inhale floods me with her.
My hands find her knees, spreading her with deliberate pressure. The hunger roars through me, a living thing. Pulsing, insistent, starved.
I don’t care about the dirt clinging to her flushed skin, I welcome it. Smelling like the wild, mixed with the salty tang between her thighs, I’m feeling like I’m in the best place a man in my shoes can be.
Her breath hitches in protest, but my mouth is already moving. A kiss pressed to her knee. A slow lick along her inner thigh, savoring the salt of her skin.
“You can’t–” Her words morph into a shuddered sigh as my tongue meets the skin right below the hem of her shorts, and she unconsciously lifts her hips. “I-I don’t even know your name and you’re–”
I’m reaching toward the button of her shorts, yanking it undone.
She’s got a point. How can I hear that sweet melodic voice moan my name if she doesn’t even know it?
I can’t remember the last time I had to introduce myself. Even with my time away from society, I know this is not the way to do it.
However, her scent is driving me mad. Smelling like sweat and honey, I’m salivating.
“Ace.” Growling out my name, I drag down the zipper of her shorts and catch sight of white cotton. “I want a taste. Let me in, rabbit.”
Her breath hitches. Fingers twist in my hair, clutching but not guiding. Not pushing me away, not dragging me closer. Just holding on, like she’s dangling over an edge.
Fine. I’ll decide for her.
My thumb finds the seam of her shorts, pressing slowly against the swell of her. Even through the fabric, she’s slick. A shudder rolls through her as I trace her folds, circling where she’s hottest.
Finally, reaching her breaking point, she nods her head.
Reeling back, I’m sinking my fingers into her shorts, pulling everything off of her. Once she’s free of everything keeping me from my meal, the sight of her pussy has my vision growing blurry to my surroundings.
Pink and glistening, her folds are swollen, parted like an invitation. The scent of her—musky and sweet—hits me before I even lower my head. My thumbs dig into her inner thighs, forcing her wider. Mine .
Her clit pulses under my stare, begging for my tongue.
“W-Wait.” Her hands flutter to my shoulders, pushing weakly. “I’m sweaty—all that hiking—maybe I should—”
A growl tears from my chest. “No.” My breath ghosts over her wetness, making her jerk. “I want you like this.”
I don’t give her time to protest. My tongue licks a hot stripe up her seam, and her flavor makes my taste buds explode.
She gasps, her hips bucking, but I pin her down with a hand splayed across her stomach.
“Ace—!” She arches, her fingers yanking my hair hard enough to sting. It’s not enough to stop my tongue from delving where she’s the sweetest, the source of her heat. “Oh, please—”
I drag my tongue deeper, deeper—until her body seizes like she’s never been touched before. Velvet walls clamp around me, fluttering with every flick of my tongue. Fuck. She’s so tight I could die here, buried between her legs, and call it paradise.
“Mine.”
I wrench back, jaw wet, and replace my mouth with my thumb. One brutal thrust, and I’m knuckle-deep inside her. Her gasp is nothing but broken pieces.
“From now on, this is mine.”
No sharing. No mercy. If another man so much as looks at her… My skin crawls, muscles coiling with the need to ruin whoever dares.
Flattening my tongue against her clit, I suck the nub between my lips and swirl my tongue, distracting her as I swap my thumb with my index finger.
Tight. So fucking tight, her cunt clenches around my finger like it’s starving. When I add a second, her breath fractures into a whimper. A third? Impossible. That virginal ring won’t yield—not yet.
My rabbit’s never been touched. I snarl into her heat, my cock straining against my zipper. Precum soaks the denim, the ache brutal. The need is even worse.
I grind against the mattress, the friction a pale substitute for what I crave: Her legs forcing wider. Her nails in my back. That fragile barrier giving way as I sink into her in one solid thrust as I plunge into her wet heat.
A moan rumbles against her folds—half hers, half mine—as my fingers curl, searching for the spot that’ll make her scream.
Once I find her g-spot, she arches against my mattress, her thighs clamping against my ear as I make her come hard enough to leave her speechless.
A soundless scream, lips parted, back arched like a drawn bow. Her release floods my mouth, hot and slick, and I groan against her, drinking her down like a man starved. I don’t miss a drop—won’t miss a drop. Not when she tastes like this.
When I finally pull back, her chest heaves, eyes glazed. Wrecked.
Staring down at her, I can’t help the smirk that comes to my lips.
I’ve shown her that I can satisfy her. Now, I have to show I can take care of her.
Once my rabbit realizes she doesn’t need to leave, I’ll keep her here for the rest of our days.