Elsbeth #2
“I get bored easily.” I strain to shrug a shoulder and roll my eyes, stealing a glance at the exit.
He snaps, one of his hands releasing my arm to grab my chin and throat. “Did you fuck Fox out of boredom?”
“No,” I say with a wincing smile. “I thought about it though. But he didn’t give into me the way you would have.”
Oh, the delicious thrill that runs through my gut when that statement hits him exactly where I hoped it would.
His ego shatters right before my eyes, but instead of yelling or cursing, he smiles.
Running his tongue across his teeth like a salivating predator, he huffs out an airy laugh.
His hands fall away. I take a tentative step back and wait for him to make another move.
“Gods, he was right about you.” He looks over to the barn door and takes a few steps toward it before retracing his path back to me. “Maddox said you were here to destroy us. And now I see it.”
Since he’s not holding on to me, the sting of where his hands were starts to ache. The hot tissue throbs, and my muscles underneath are screaming for relief all while the icy night air compresses my lungs. I’m shaking and I’m sure he thinks he’s close to breaking me. He’s wrong.
“Sorry to disappoint you.” I do my best to keep up with where he’s leading us. “Though I do appreciate you underestimating me.”
“I played right into your hands. But so did Fox and Maddox.” Thorne pauses, roughs his hand at the back of his neck, then steps into me once again. “Fuck, you’ve really pinned us down, haven’t you?”
The backs of my legs and ass hits one of the barrels I placed in front of the door.
“It wasn’t that hard. You’re not as inconspicuous as you think.” I breathe out, but his body keeps me caged. Whatever is filling the barrel keeps it firm to my backside. “Now that you’ve caught up, what are you going to do, legacy?”
His hand reaches behind me to the rim of the wood. I shift to round the obstruction, but his free hand holds my hip in place.
“I think I’m done fighting. I’m going to give you what you came for.”
“Wha—” The little bit of air that’s still in my lungs is pushed away when he lifts my ass up onto the rough wood top of the barrel.
He uses the distraction to wedge his hips between my thighs.
One arm bands around my lower back, bringing my front flush to his.
His other hand tangles into the hair at the nape of my neck. “Hawthorne!”
“Open my jeans,” he commands with gruff, lust-thick voice.
His grip around my waist loosens, but my scalp burns as his grip pulls a little tighter.
“Fuck you.” I push my numb palms into his chest.
“Only if you want to.” He grins down at me, loving how I squirm. “Call it ‘testing a theory.’ Go ahead. I’d help you out, but my hands are full.”
Thorne pulls my head to the side, giving himself access to my bare neck. His warm lips press to the thin skin over my pulse. The warmth that comes off him no longer burns. It soothes and ripples around my joints to chase away the sharp, stabbing cold.
“What are you doing?” I brace myself on the splintering wood beneath me and tell myself that I’m just using him to warm up before he does whatever he’s planning and I have to run for my life.
“I’m giving in, just like you said.” He grinds the bulge in his jeans against my cunt. The useless fabric over my clit instantly cools with arousal. “Buckle first. Then buttons.”
Slowly, my fingers make their way to his pants.
Sharp pricks bring the feeling in my hands back to life when I touch the hot metal of his simple buckle.
It clicks then opens easily. His hips rise to give me a better angle that I don’t need, but now I’m questioning both of our motives.
I pull at the button and it comes undone.
“You taste so good.” His grateful tone does something to me. Something it shouldn’t. “Salt and moonlight.”
And dirt. And moldy straw. He’s conveniently not tasting everything else that has led us to this moment.
I stiffen and ignore the needy tingling low in my belly.
This new game isn’t as simple as the chase.
I don’t know the rules or the prize. I’m not sure how to win or if I’m losing, but I don’t want him to stop.
Maybe that’s the most dangerous part of this whole evening.
Thorne’s mouth moves down to my collarbone. His soft lips kiss the ridge from one end to the middle of my chest. His hand directs my head to the other side before he continues leaving hot kisses over the other bone.
A traitorous moan causes my chest to sink, and I feel Thorne grin. “Zipper.” His command sounds more like desperation now.
“Please, don’t . . .” I don’t know what I’m asking, but the galvanized teeth of his zipper snags and scrapes on its way down. My hand cups his throbbing cock through his briefs.
“Fuck, I hate you so much for this.” He exhales, sinking into my touch, but his hands tighten, holding me in place. Keeping me close to him for as long as he can.
My knuckles brush over my own needy sex.
Slick fluid from his tip wets the soft, lux fabric of his briefs against my palm.
If I moved my hand, what would he do? Would he grind against me until we are both panting and limp?
Would he take what he needs then finally break my neck?
If he doesn’t, Maddox, who is still lying in wait outside the barn door, will. Wouldn’t he?
“Hate me harder.” I pull my hand out from between our bodies and push my hips up to meet his rock-hard length.
Thorne pulls my head back. I grimace. Tiny needles prick the back of my neck where his fingers tighten. Meeting his gaze, I gather as much vitriol as I can through the insatiable need plaguing my judgment.
“I can’t.” He takes in a quick, shallow breath.
His last thread of resistance is wearing thinner by the second. I arch my back, the one hand on the barrel behind me the only leverage I have, and it’s just enough. A wave of pleasure rolls up into my belly as my clit rubs over the head of his cock.
“I hate you.” I moan just for him. Chip away at his sanity layer by layer. “I hate you so fucking much, Thorne.”
He groans, rocking his hips to my rhythm. “That’s right. Curse my name.”
Another rough, grinding circle brings me closer to the rocky cliffs of orgasm.
“Fuck you, Bishop. Oh gods, fuck you.” I moan louder, hoping that even Maddox can hear how close I am.
It’s happening. The tightness in my lower belly pulls and pulses until my toes are curling and my chest is heaving.
But right as the crest of pleasure starts to peak, Hawthorne smiles and releases me.
He puts just enough space between us that all the built-up friction is gone and all I’m left with is his smug expression beaming down at me.
“I bet you’re so pretty when you come,” he whispers with the most malicious smile on his lips. “I’ll have to ask Fox for all the dirty details.”
Rage fills the void that pleasure abandoned.
The last bit of Alric’s magic tickles at the back of my throat.
The same spot where tears prick when I’m angry or frustrated.
I can feel the hot emotions start to well in my eyes as I push Alric’s memory away.
The last thing I want is to feel him when I was so close to coming on Thorne Bishop’s dick.
I try to catch my breath and steel my disappointment, but he’s still so close. The clash of fury and need inside of me whirls, making me lightheaded.
“Maybe Maddox will give you what you need.” Thorne finally takes his hands off me and steps away.
The front of his jeans is wide open, the wet spot on his light blue briefs the only evidence that I wasn’t the only one affected by what he just did.
“Mads.” Thorne raises his voice, and there is a single knock on the other side of the door.
He lowers his gaze between my still spread legs then moves it up to my face.
“She’s all warmed up for you.” Another loud knock on the door.
Thorne lowers his voice and speaks only to me. “Tell me one more time.”
I get to my unsure feet and inch toward the door. “I fucking hate you, Hawthorne Bishop.”
The door opens. An empty pathway lies out before me. I take one last look at Thorne before I take off running. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to. We both can feel his victory and my shame.
Asshole.
I shoot out the door without looking for Maddox.
I don’t have to lay eyes on him to know that he’s at my back already.
The slick fluid between my legs is cold and uncomfortable, but I push harder, determined to get as much distance between me and the burning embarrassment that just transpired in the barn.
Just keep running.
The sound of my feet hitting the near frozen dirt path into the grove of apple trees matches my heartbeat.
My lungs fill faster and faster and I swear I can run for miles.
I imagine reaching the edge of the orchard to whatever state road runs alongside the estate. Could I make it to the next town over?
I know Maddox would never let me get that far. Not tonight.
The burning in my calves starts to feel like lead, but I push through.
Don’t stop, Elsbeth. Keep running.
The words echo in my head, but they aren’t mine. The voice is familiar and playful, but I can’t fixate on it to unmask it.
He’s so close now. The trees know. The stones stabbing into the balls of my feet know. Every blade of grass and clump of dirt can feel him closing the distance. And when curiosity finally eats away at my confidence, I look back. All I see is a hand reaching out to grab me.