Chapter 6
six
. . .
Woodrow
I don’t know how long I hold my angel after I do what I promised: worshipped every inch of her until she fell asleep and napped in my arms like a contented little kitten.
She’s awake and stretching now, though, and there’s something I want to to do.
"Get dressed," I tell her, standing abruptly. "Something comfortable. We're going for a walk."
Her eyebrows shoot up. "A walk? Aren't we supposed to be hiding?"
"My property extends for twenty acres. All woods, all secured. We'll stay within the perimeter." I hold out my hand, helping her up. "You need fresh air. And I need to show you something."
Fifteen minutes later, she's dressed in her jeans from yesterday and another of my t-shirts, knotted at the waist. I've put on a black henley and boots. We step out onto the back porch, the morning sun filtering through the pine trees surrounding the cabin.
"It's beautiful," she says, inhaling deeply.
"Isolated," I correct her, taking her small hand in mine. "Defensible."
She glances up at me. "Do you always think in tactical terms?"
"Always." I lead her down a narrow path into the trees. "Keeps me alive. Keeps you safe."
We walk in comfortable silence for a while.
The forest is quiet except for the occasional bird call and the crunch of pine needles under our feet.
I watch Priscilla from the corner of my eye, her face tilted up to catch the dappled sunlight through the branches.
She looks more relaxed than I've seen her yet. It suits her.
I take her to the small stream that cuts through my property, clear water burbling over smooth stones. A natural boundary line. I've set up motion sensors and cameras along it, but she doesn't need to know that yet.
"This is the edge of my land," I tell her, watching her kneel to trail her fingers through the cold water. "Everything from here back to the cabin is secure."
"It's peaceful," she says, standing and wiping her wet fingers on her jeans. "I can see why you live out here."
"Easier to spot threats coming." I step closer, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I wanted you to know that you can have space. You don’t have to stay trapped in the house, but I need you within my land. That way I can keep you safe, my angel.“
The possessiveness in my voice makes her breath catch. I'm about to pull her into my arms when a sound catches my attention—footsteps on the trail ahead. I tense immediately, pushing Priscilla slightly behind me, my hand automatically reaching for the knife sheathed at my ankle.
A hiker appears around the bend. Young guy, maybe early thirties, wearing a North Face jacket and carrying a water bottle. Civilian. Not a threat, at least not physically. But the way his eyes land on Priscilla, widening slightly as he takes in her face, her body—that's a different kind of threat.
"Morning," he calls, too friendly, his gaze lingering on Priscilla a beat too long. "Beautiful day for a hike."
"You're on private property," I say flatly, stepping fully in front of Priscilla. My body language couldn't be clearer: back the fuck off.
"Oh, sorry man." His eyes flick to me, then back to Priscilla, who's peering around my shoulder. He smiles at her. "Didn't realize. The trail isn't marked."
"It is now," I growl, wrapping an arm around Priscilla's waist, pulling her against my side. "You need to turn around."
He raises his hands in mock surrender, still looking at her. "No problem. Sorry to intrude on your…time together."
The way he says it, the implication in his tone, the lingering look—something primal and violent surges through me. My vision narrows, tunneling on this intruder, this man who dared to look at what's mine.
"Woodrow," Priscilla murmurs, her hand on my chest, sensing the shift in me. "It's okay."
The hiker takes a step back, finally picking up on the danger. Smart move. Another second and I'd have shown him exactly how I dealt with threats in my former life.
"I'll just head back the way I came," he says, giving us a wide berth as he retreats.
I watch him until he disappears around the bend, every muscle in my body taut, ready to spring. Only when I'm sure he's gone do I look down at Priscilla.
"He was just a hiker," she says, concern in her eyes. "He wasn't—"
"He looked at you," I cut her off, my voice a low rumble of barely contained rage. "Looked at what's mine."
Before she can respond, I grab her wrist, pulling her off the path and deeper into the trees. When we're hidden from the trail, I back her up against a massive pine, caging her between my arms.
"No one gets to look at you like that," I growl, pressing my body against hers. "No one but me."
"Woodrow, he was just being friendly—"
"Bullshit." I grip her chin, forcing her to meet my eyes. "He wanted you. I saw it in his face. Every man who looks at you wants you. But they can't have you." I grind my hardening cock against her stomach. "Tell me who you belong to."
Her pupils dilate, her breathing quickens. "You," she whispers. "I belong to you."
"That's right." I crash my mouth down on hers, swallowing her gasp. The kiss is brutal, possessive, all teeth and tongue and dominance. When I finally break away, we're both panting. "And I'm going to remind you exactly who owns this sweet little body."
I spin her around, pressing her front against the rough bark of the tree. She whimpers but doesn't protest as I kick her legs wider, my hands already working on her jeans, yanking them down along with her panties just enough to expose her ass and pussy.
"Look at you," I mutter, one hand sliding between her thighs, finding her already wet. "Getting soaked just from me being possessive. You like knowing how much I want you, don't you? How fucking crazy you make me?"
"Yes," she admits, her voice small but heavy with arousal. "I shouldn't, but I do."
"Nothing wrong with it, little girl." I free my cock, already rock hard and leaking. "Nothing wrong with giving yourself to Daddy. With letting me take what's mine."
I position myself at her entrance, rubbing the head through her slick folds. She's still tender from last night, I can tell from the way she tenses slightly, but she's also ready for me, her body preparing itself to be filled again.
"This pussy is mine to fill, little girl," I growl into her ear as I push inside with one hard thrust. "No one else gets to look. No one else gets to touch. No one else gets to taste or fuck or breed this perfect body."
She cries out, her inner walls clenching around me as I set a brutal pace. There's nothing gentle about this—it's claiming, pure and simple. Marking territory. Reminding her who she belongs to.
"You feel that?" I grab her hair, pulling her head back to expose her throat. "Feel how perfectly you take my cock? Like you were made for me. Made to be filled with my seed."
"Yes," she gasps, pushing back against me, meeting my thrusts. "Yes, please, Woodrow—"
"What do you call me?" I demand, slowing my pace, grinding deep inside her.
"D-daddy," she stammers, her face flushed with both embarrassment and arousal. "Please, Daddy."
"That's my good girl." I reward her with harder, deeper thrusts, one hand snaking around to find her clit. "Such a perfect little pussy. So tight around my cock. Gonna fill you up, breed you right here in the woods where anyone could see what a good little slut you are for Daddy."
The filthy words pour out of me uncensored, each one making her wetter, her inner muscles fluttering around my length. She's close already, her body so responsive to me, to my cock, to my words.
"You want that, don't you?" I continue, rubbing tight circles around her clit as I fuck her. "Want me to put a baby in you? Mark you from the inside so everyone knows you're taken?"
"Oh God," she moans, her head falling forward against the tree. "I shouldn't want it—I barely know you—but yes, yes, please—"
Her confession sends fire through my veins. I increase my pace, pounding into her with abandon, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the quiet woods.
"Gonna come for me," I tell her, not a question. "Gonna come on Daddy's cock like a good little breeding vessel. Then I'm going to fill you up with my seed. Pump you so full it'll be dripping down your thighs all day, reminding you who you belong to."
Her orgasm hits suddenly, her body going rigid before convulsing around me, inner walls clamping down on my cock like a vise. She bites her lip to muffle her cries, but I'm not having it.
"Let me hear you," I demand, slapping her ass sharply. "Let anyone who's listening know who's making you feel this good."
She lets go then, a keening cry tearing from her throat as she comes apart around me. The sound, combined with the rippling of her pussy around my cock, pushes me over the edge. I slam into her one final time, burying myself to the hilt as my orgasm crashes through me.
"Fuck," I groan, emptying myself inside her in hot, heavy pulses. "Taking my cum so well. Such a perfect little girl."
For a long moment, we stay joined, both catching our breath. The forest is quiet around us except for the distant sound of the stream and the occasional bird call. Eventually, I pull out, watching with satisfaction as my cum immediately begins to leak from her well-used pussy.
I turn her gently, helping her fix her clothes, wiping her clean with my handkerchief. Her face is flushed, her lips swollen from biting them, her eyes dazed but satisfied. Thoroughly claimed.
"I meant what I said," I tell her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "No one touches what's mine. No one even looks if I can help it."
"Woodrow..." she starts, then stops, seeming unsure what to say.
"I'm going to eliminate the threat," I continue, cupping her face in my hands. "Permanently. Not just the goons who tried to grab you. The people who sent them. Everyone who might ever try to hurt you."
Something flickers in her eyes—fear, but not of me. "How?"
"You don't need to know the details. Just trust that I have the skills and the resources to make sure no one ever threatens you again."
She studies my face, seeing the cold truth there. I'm not making empty promises. I've killed before. I'll kill again without hesitation if it means keeping her safe.
"Will you..." She swallows hard. "Will you come back? After?"
The question surprises me. She's worried about me leaving, not about what I'm planning to do. My chest tightens with something unfamiliar. Something dangerously close to tenderness.
"Wild horses couldn't keep me away from you," I promise her, sealing it with a softer kiss. "
As we walk back to the cabin, my arm around her shoulders, her body tucked against my side, I'm already planning. I have contacts to call, favors to cash in. I'll find every last person connected to the threat against her and eliminate them, one by one.
And when it's done, when she's truly safe, nothing and no one will ever separate us again.