Chapter 27
Consequences
Brioni
Wind whipped at Brioni’s face as she ran through the barn, heart already pumping like she was being tailed by some primal monster hellsbent on claiming her body and soul.
Ragnar’s roar shook the trees as she bolted between them.
Oh, right.
She could barely contain her laughter, the sound bubbling out of her as she fled, but that wasn’t what she was supposed to be doing. She was supposed to be scared.
Breathe heavy like you’re about to pass out and maybe that will frighten you, she told herself as she hustled around a bend.
Imagine how terrible it will be when he catches you and tears off your clothes and sinks his big—wait, no, that’s not working.
That sounds wonderful! Maybe I should trip and scream?
Brioni looked for something to fall over, but the pathway was too even and clear, so she brought herself to a stop, let out a shriek, and flopped on the ground.
As she rearranged herself, she noticed the tie of her dress had come loose.
Oh, perfect. She yanked the neckline down so that her nipples just peeked out over the pink fabric and positioned herself to give Ragnar the best view.
But when the demon came stalking down the path, Brioni’s worries turned away from displaying her best assets.
He was even more massive from her spot on the ground, back expanding with each heavy breath, the outline of every muscle rippling under the starlight.
His horns curved away, but their points were deadly, and his thrashing tail snapped through the air behind him.
He didn’t bother to run, stride so long he would catch her effortlessly no matter what speed she reached.
She knew then just how helpless she really was. A human couldn’t possibly escape a demon, and one was about to catch her.
Brioni let out a real scream, not entirely run through with terror, but the playfulness was buried under a primal frenzy in her brain.
Keep running.
Go as far and fast as you can.
Make it last.
She hoisted herself from the earth and sprinted away, following the clearest, safest path through the Veilwood at top speed.
But her brain had forgotten about the pond until she was skidding to a stop at its edge.
She didn’t need to glance over her shoulder to know he was just behind her, the feel of his body looming close, but the Dreadmoor was just beyond the far edge of the water, and there was nowhere to go.
Brioni dove into the pond, kicking off her shoes as she went. A shock ran through her from the cold, and she surfaced with a gasp, heart hammering and body covered in gooseflesh. She waded to where the water was hip deep, all of it freezing, and wrapped arms around her middle.
“You think I won’t come after you in there?” Ragnar’s voice prowled up her spine from the bank behind her. And then there was a splash as he stepped into the water.
Fear spiked through Brioni yet again, urging her onward, but her next step was even shorter, stifled by the water, the cold, the weight of her soaking dress. And then arms wrapped around her waist.
Brioni squealed as her feet came up off the bottom of the pond, water droplets raining down around them as she thrashed in Ragnar’s grasp.
He chuckled low in his throat, and it reverberated from his chest to her back like a purr.
“You thought you could outrun me,” he teased in her ear as she kicked her legs in mock protest. “But I will always catch you, Brioni.”
Always.
Her heart fluttered anew, fear replaced with infatuation. The heat of his body pressed to her back chased away the cold of the pond, and then he was swinging her about so that he could scoop under her legs and carry her properly.
“You got me,” she said breathlessly, blinking up into his black eyes and wrapping hands around his neck.
Ragnar traipsed through the water as he grinned down at her, starlight gleaming off his water spotted horns. There was love in his eyes, surely, but something else too. Something wild and hungry and feral.
Suddenly, Brioni was falling. His arms were no longer around her and her grip was too slick to hang on, but she was caught again by her hips and swiftly turned away from the monster that had just dropped her.
A clawed hand on the back of her neck pushed her forward, firm but without cruelty, and before she knew she’d been carried away, she was bent over one of the smooth stones at the edge of the pond.
There was a sharp slap to her backside, and she yelped from surprise.
“When I catch you,” the demon growled, “this is what happens.”
Another slap, so much sharper, but Brioni gasped this time as heat flooded where his hand landed and quickly spread between her legs.
“Is this what you want?” Ragnar’s fingers tightened on the back of her neck, claws pressing in as he landed another swat.
She knew he was being gentle despite the sting—Ragnar was significantly stronger than that—but yes, this was exactly what she wanted, and she moaned.
“Tell me,” he demanded as his hand fell still over the swell of her backside.
“Yes,” she squeaked out. She’d fallen onto her elbows and used what little movement she had to peek over her shoulder and through drenched strands of hair.
Ragnar stood behind her, arm bearing down on her back, the hard lines of his face drawn into wild desire as his fangs gleamed. He could do much worse, and that was what she wanted.
She wiggled her backside and just barely grazed his hardness. “Yes, Ragnar, please.”
He growled and gave her another push so that she slid forward, her hardened nipples freed from her dress and rubbing against the stone as she reached out and gripped its edge.
His hand skimmed up the back of her thigh as he lifted her dress, and then a claw hooked into the waist of her lacy underthings and dragged them down slowly, painfully, agonizingly, until they fell between her knees and were lost.
The feel of his hand was gone, and cool air hit her bare, wet skin. She balanced on her toes, still in the water of the pond’s bank. Brioni took measured breaths, but dizziness came anyway, claws pinching her neck and pressure on her back keeping her in place as she waited for what she’d earned.
When Ragnar’s palm landed, her breath was stolen, the sting hot and grounding, and then she cried out from the pain.
A second swat landed in the exact same spot with a crack that echoed into the forest and encouraged another wail from deep in her throat.
Gods, it hurt, but heat in her belly built instantly, and she squeezed her thighs together for just a bit of relief.
“Every time you run from me,” he husked, switching to her other cheek and blooming brand-new fire there, “I’ll be reminding you exactly what happens to my naughty little human when she disobeys.”
Blazes, she hoped so, her shrieks devolving into groans as he continued to punish her. She arched her back and squirmed her legs apart so he could chastise every inch, tears springing to her eyes even as her core simultaneously wept.
Then the barrage suddenly stopped, and Ragnar kneaded his fingers into her hot flesh. They slid over each swell and then underneath, pinching just once and eliciting a shocked squeak before gently massaging where they’d sparked so much pain.
Brioni’s breath came back, and her fingers eased their tenuous grip on the far edge of the stone. “I’ll be good,” she whimpered, and for maybe the first time ever, she really meant it.
A finger swept through her folds then plunged inside her.
Brioni arched her back and squealed, hips thrusting to fill herself as much as possible, but he pulled out just as quickly.
“Punishment isn’t supposed to make you so wet.
” The grip on her neck tugged her up onto her elbows again, and Ragnar reached around, presenting the finger soaked in her juices just to her mouth.
“Look at what a bad girl you are.” He pressed his hips against her raw backside, reigniting the burn, his length nestled between her cheeks, and then he pressed his finger to her lips.
Brioni took it in her mouth like the good girl she knew she could be, swirling her tongue around and tasting herself while sucking on his knuckle.
Pressed so firmly to the stone, she ground her hips against a ridge, and pleasure spiked through her body.
But she needed more relief, and she would do anything to get it.
“Did I say you could do that?” Ragnar leaned close behind her ear, trapping her hips and halting any movement. “Looks like your punishment isn’t over yet.”