Chapter 4 #3
I can’t help my scoff. Before I even have the time to react, I see him raising the axe, certain he’s going to fucking decapitate my head like those dolls hanging in the trees further away.
Instead, he swings the axe into the trunk right beside my head, ultimately trapping me but also making sure the sharp object isn’t at risk of hurting me even more.
“How oddly sweet,” I mumble sarcastically.
He pinches the bridge of his nose, muttering something incoherent under his breath, before tugging a rope free from the back pocket of his hands in one swift movement. I didn’t even see it when he approached. “That smart mouth of yours is going to get you in a lot of trouble, darlin’.”
Before I can register what’s happening, he’s wrapping the rope around my waist, yanking me tight against the tree.
His body presses closer as he secures my wrists behind the trunk, pulling them through with the sturdy threads until it bites into my skin.
With a practiced flick, he ties it together at my front, leaving me bound and unmoving.
The whiff of his cologne fills my lungs, sending a dizzy rush through my head. The shock soon settles in like static in my veins when he takes a step back. As if marveling in his handiwork.
“What the hell are you doing?” I demand.
“Making sure you can’t hurt yourself anymore.”
“If you hadn’t come near me, we wouldn’t have been in this situation in the first place.”
“Sorry. Couldn’t resist.” A lazy smirk stretches his lips, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight.
He raises the axe slowly, the rough wooden handle pressing against my lips.
He’s careful as he positions the axe vertically, the blade safely angled away before he forces the handle into my mouth like a gag.
The taste of pine and metal floods my senses, a strange mix of fear and arousal twisting inside me.
“Shhh, now, baby.” His voice is a soothing caress that balms my soul.
He crouches, careful to avoid the sharp blade of the axe Then his tongue drags up the side of my throat, hot against the cold trickle sliding down my naked skin. That’s when I realize I’m bleeding, and this stranger just straight-up licked it clean.
He sucks on my skin, teeth grazing as he gently bites, tasting the skin from me.
“You even taste feisty,” he murmurs against me, and a shudder works its way up my spine.
I’m too stunned to react, too turned on by this stranger to actually think of anything appropriate to do. All I can feel is the desire growing inside me to have a man want me.
I shouldn’t find a stranger pinning me against a tree with his rope, his axe inside my mouth gagging me, and his mouth licking the blood from my neck so hot, but I somehow do.
What is wrong with me?
A lot.
Finally, he pulls the handle away from my mouth when my eyes water. I gag.
“What do you want from me?” I swallow, trying to sound strong, but my voice is way too breathy.
His leather glove wraps around my throat, slightly putting pressure on it. I gasp loudly when I feel him bending down, his legs splitting mine apart.
“I want to see that scared little expression of yours when you realize there’s no way out of here.
” He presses a chaste kiss against the side of my mouth, and my lips tingle with the sudden desire to press mine against his.
Feel him upon me. “I want to kill everyone in this forest and draw you a bath of blood. You do look gorgeous in red.” His head tilts down, staring at the red details all over my outfit. “Blood suits you.”
His hand trails over my dress, reaching down to my breasts until his fingers circle my nipples through the fabric. I can’t help but pant.
“Y-you’re a lunatic,” I breathe, but desire is making my mind foggy.
“And you’re such a flirt.”
I flinch when he pulls the axe from the tree and plunges it into another spot. He chuckles at my reaction. “I want to cut open your clothes with this.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“One swing, and this dress will lie in shreds on the forest floor. What will your little friends say then, hmmm?”
He pulls the axe free from the bark, pulling it closer to me, and drags the handle down between my legs. I’m so fucking turned on, I can’t do anything but accept whatever is happening.
I gasp in protest, remembering the sticky—what must be fake—blood dried on the sharp blade.
He shushes me. “Let me make you feel good.”
His words curl around me like smoke as he holds the object steady against me.
“Not unless you untie me.”
“You’re not the one making the shots here,” he says, right as he holds the axe steady against the fabric of my tights, just barely brushing against my clit.
Swirls of desire coil inside me when the axe brushes against the sensitive spot. I’m too far gone, unable to help myself, beginning to grind against it, ignoring the guilt flooding me.
“That’s it, little fangs. Grind against the axe.”
I shouldn’t, but I do. I should demand he let me go, but I don’t.
I ride the axe, seeking that friction which overtakes every sense, overpowers the coldness of the night. I pant out, feeling his other hand wrap around my waist to hold me steady, despite the rope doing its work.
Feeling his bulge isn’t helping my case either, and a small, barely audible moan comes out.
I should fight this. Should scream for help. But for some reason I can’t comprehend, I don’t.
“Feels good, doesn’t it? Having a dangerous little weapon so close to you.”
Through the layers of fabric, my clit reacts to the axe, holding it steady while I grind against it, seeking pleasure in the midst of this madness. My hips move on their own volition, and I’m lost in desire, unable to stop.
“Just like that, little fangs,” he purrs, and his words make me flush and whimper. “Keep riding the axe.”
And fuck, I do. Until I’m breathing, moaning, fucking panting. He’s there, holding me through it all, until I feel as if I might fall apart.
I’m so close to coming.
“Nadia?”
A voice echoes in the distance, coming all the closer by the second.
I can feel the stranger swallowing, his Adam’s apple moving as he does so. Is he affected by my name?
“Looks like your friends are coming, after all.”
I hear footsteps crunching against dry leaves, and before I know it, the rope is unsecured around my waist. The axe disappears right along with the stranger’s presence, as if he was never there to begin with.
I’m panting, trying to catch my bearings as I rub my sore wrists. It feels like my entire body is set on fire, in desperate need to come undone.
I’m falling in reverse rather than falling right off that cliff that brings the greatest pleasure. Anti-climactic all on its own, leaving me frustrated and desperate.
Fuck, this isn’t good.
I shouldn’t be affected by a goddamn stranger I don’t even know the name of.
But I so fucking am.