42. Annalise
Chapter forty-two
Annalise
Every stride across the already dampening ground loosens the chains that have bound me for weeks. Every horrible memory. Every kind gesture that was a cloak for the pitying comments students said when they thought I was out of earshot.
“Annalise, stop!"
Like hell. If I stop, I won't be able to be held responsible for my actions.
“What the fuck is wrong with you! Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
Rain drenches my hair as I push myself faster, harder, anything to get away from the horrors that seem to chase me everywhere.
The mud squelches beneath my shoes, splattering up my calves, and if the cool weight on my head is any indication, I'm sure all over my back and ponytail too.
Just like it had in the forest after they had tackled me to the ground.
I feel their arms trying to pin me. The rope burning against my skin as I tried to get away. Not enough. None of it was enough!
The rain picks up, each cold drop hitting my skin harder as thunder rolls somewhere in the distance.
“Seiri, please!”
He’s fucking crazy if he thinks I’m going to slow down to hear anything he has to say right now.
A glob of mud splatters across my face as I cut across the glen toward the riding grounds. My lungs burn, a reminder of yet another one of my shortcomings.
“Annalise Corvin!”
The sound of his boots pounding behind me grows closer, but I’ve lost too much of my stamina since being bedridden to push any harder.
A hand closes around my arm.
I barely have time to gasp before I’m yanked backward, spun around as the rain begins to pour in earnest. I stumble, but his hands drop to my waist, steadying me before I hit the ground.
Sheets of rain fall between us, plastering his dirty blonde hair to his forehead, and dripping from the sharp line of his jaw.
I try to step away, but his hold on me tightens just enough to keep me from pulling away.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he demands, breath rough from the chase. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
Water runs down my face, but I don’t wipe it away. I just glare up at him through the rain, chest heaving.
“You told me to leave,” I shoot back, my voice shaking more than I want it to.
Lightning flashes somewhere beyond the tree line, illuminating the fury carved into his steely expression.
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
I try to wrench my arm free, but his hold only shifts—firmer now, anchoring me in place.
“Let go,” I snap.
“No. You don't run from this. You don't run from me. We talk. You fucking yell at me for being an asshole if you have to, but you. do. not. run.”
Rain pounds against the ground around us, drowning the clearing while thunder cracks closer this time.
For a moment neither of us moves, neither of us ready to concede as our emotional standoff rages.
I'm about to try for another escape when he pulls me into his rain and sweat soaked chest, infuriatingly melting away my anger as his heart races against my ear.
“You don’t get to run,” he whispers, his voice lower now but no less intense. “Not when there are monsters hunting in these woods that we can't trace.”
“Maybe I don’t care,” I confess, but he ignores my outburst as he wipes my cheek.
“You don’t get to run from me.”
The words hang between us, swallowed by the rain.
And for the first time since he grabbed me, the heat in his eyes isn’t anger.
“Hunt—”
“Yes, Seiri?”
His gravelly, seductive tone obliterates every one of my defenses as he leans down, his lips skimming down the side of my neck. The heat of his breath followed by the cool night's air, leaves my skin pebbled in goosebumps he doesn’t seem to notice.
“You can’t do that out here,” I half-heartedly argue. “Anyone could see us.”
He chuckles against my skin, but he doesn’t stop. Kisses slowly trail down my collar bone, igniting my skin before he even reaches the swell of my breasts.
“You know as well as I do that we’re the only ones out here,” he murmurs, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine. “And even if we weren’t, you love the risk of being caught.”
“I do not.”
“Seiri, you’re a terrible liar.”
Before I can protest, his lips are locking with mine, and I’m being lifted into the air as he stalks toward the trees behind the Riding Tack House.
Slowly, he lowers me back to my feet just before my back is pressed against the trunk of the tree.
I can’t help but admire his perfect form—every muscle glistening—
“Are you done?” he asks, smiling down at me as I blatantly check him out.
“Not even a little,” I smile, biting my lip as I quickly grab his hips, spinning us until our positions are reversed.
“What are you—”
Before he can say another word, my fingers slip between his drenched skin and the shorts clinging to him in a way only I should be able to. Haphazardly, I pull them down, my knees splashing in the now standing water.
The rain continues to pour down around us, but my eye catches on the solitary drop gliding across the smooth head of his cock as my mouth moves closer.
Another drop falls to his veiny shaft, then another after that; and I suddenly find myself in desperate need of water.
The tip of my tongue barely has a chance to lick the first drop off before his fingers are gently curling into my hair; and fucking hell, I’m so tired of him treating me like some breakable doll.
I want him undone.
I want him needy.
I want him to lose the last bit of self-control that I know he’s been hanging onto.
And so I do the only thing a girl in my position can…I run my tongue up the underside of his cock in one long, slow stroke before I spread my lips open around his head and take his thick, veiny length in my mouth until he’s hitting the back of my throat.
“Seiri—Gods,” he groans, and if I had any ability to smile, I would be.
Every twist of my tongue is met with little noises, every bob of my head is met with twitches of his dick in my mouth, and every time his fingers curl in my hair, I think I’m on the verge of him breaking his restraint…
but then he catches himself and strokes it back like he’s petting an injured animal.
“Gods fucking damn you!” I shout the second I pull off of him, my annoyance and anger back and burning almost as hot as when I left the house.
“What the fuck? What did I do now?” he spits back, unsurprisingly matching my sudden frustration.
“YOU’RE BEING TOO FUCKING NICE!” I shout, feeling trapped, despite being outdoors.
“Can’t you see? I don’t want you coddling me! I don’t want to be something soft and weak that you’re too worried about breaking to ever touch.”
His laugh is sardonic, which only fuels my resentment.
“Is that what you really think? That I look at you and see weakness?” he snarls.
“Obviously,” I throw back, and if I were smarter, I would turn and run as a predatory grin cuts across his face.
“Oh, I know you’re tough. I know you’re strong. But I don’t know if even a goddess could withstand the things I’ve been dying to do to you.”
“But you never—”
This time, it’s my turn to be cut off as he prowls towards me once more, forcing me to take backward step after backward step until I’m firmly pressed against another trunk. My thighs press together as the animalistic look in his eyes draws me in.
“Trust me when I say, there is nothing I want more than to show you just how much I've wanted you…but I can’t,” he whispers, his lips barely skimming mine.
No. He. Fucking. Didn’t.
“You’re such an asshole!” I snap, trying to slide around him. “Who tells someone how long they've wanted them at the same time they’re turning them down for sex?"
I try to squeeze past him, ready to restart my run before I explode from the storm of frustration clawing its way through my chest, but he shifts just enough to block me again, a solid wall of muscle and stubbornness planted directly in my path.
“Move,” I demand.
“Not happening.”
His hand shoots out, catching my wrist before I can shove past him.
I try to jerk free, but his other hand closes around my second arm just as quickly.
“Hunter—”
Rain slides down between us, the storm picking up around the clearing, droplets running down his temples and along the hard line of his jaw.
“Are you done?” his voice is gentle, an irritating contrast to the inferno I’m feeling.
“No."
"Always so fucking stubborn."
I twist my wrists, trying to pull free, but it only makes his grip tighten slightly—not enough to hurt, just enough to remind me that I’m not running again.
A moan escapes me, but I'm not ready to give up the fight.
His dick pushes against me, his warm breath spreading goosebumps down my wet neck.
"You're saying you don't want me, but your body doesn't seem to agree, Sir."
“That’s not what I said.”
“Really? Because that’s exactly what it felt like.”
For a moment, we are in another standoff, neither of us moving, neither of us speaking. A crash of lightning consumes the sky, the bolts so bright, I can see the raindrops falling from his hair as he watches the droplets running down my arms that he still holds pinned above my head.
His gaze drifts over my face, slower this time, like he’s trying to read every emotion I’m failing to hide.
“You think I turned you down?” he asks, voice lower now, rougher.
“You did.”
His biceps flex above me, and then he leans closer. “No, I didn’t. I was about to tell you that I don’t know how to do this. I’ve never loved anyone the way I want you, and I…" his voice lowers to a whisper, his eyes looking everywhere but at me, "I don't want to hurt you."
A short gasp escapes me, my hand immediately shooting to cover my mouth.
A look of surprise, confusion, and hurt quickly covers the flash of embarrassment I see cross his face, and it takes me all of two seconds to put the pieces together. He thinks I’m laughing at him.
“Hunter—Hunt…I don’t want you gentle,” I promise as I bring his face back towards mine, desperately wanting him to see the sincerity in my eyes. “That literally sounds like my own form of torture…only second to all of this edging you’ve been putting me through the last few months.”
A little smile tugs at his lips, and I seize my opportunity to turn this night around.
“I want you to consume me, control me, fucking wreck me…and if you really mean what you said, preferably tell me you love me again when you're not about to bury yourself inside of me…which you better do right fucking now,” I smile, and that’s all it takes.
His lips are on mine, our tongues battling for dominance as he pins my arms back above my head with a strength that makes me moan with need as my body writhes beneath him, my back barely registering the cuts everywhere my sports bra covers, or the blood I’m going to pretend is more raindrops.
Thankfully, he quickly catches on, lifting me to wrap my legs around his waist before he’s lowering us down to the ground, our lips never breaking apart as he fumbles awkwardly to pull off my now drenched leggings.
“No underwear, are you serious, Seiri?” he growls.
“I didn't exactly analyze my outfit before coming for you,” I respond, before my words register and I’m quickly covering my mouth.
“I don’t think so,” he laughs, pulling my hands away. “I have been dying to hear every sound you make, and you won’t deny me tonight, will you?”
“Maybe,” I tease, before his hand I never registered moving, aggressively flicks my hardened nipple.
“Ow!” I protest, but before the sound has even died, a low moan follows from my lips.
“I said, you won’t deny me the pleasure of hearing your moans while I fuck you, will you?”
“No,” I say, before immediately correcting myself, “No, Sir.”
“Gods help me,” he says, sliding his fingers through the embarrassingly wet mess between my thighs.
“The Gods aren’t here, Hunter. If you’re in the mood to worship, it’s going to have to be my body you kneel for.”
“That fucking mouth of yours,” he groans before sitting up to his knees, pulling my legs over his shoulders.
“Ready?” he asks, but I’m already sliding his tip through the wetness awaiting him between my legs.
"Yes, Hunter. So fucking ready."
“Tell me if you need me to slow down,” he says as he slowly pushes into me.
My moans are in both pleasure and pain as his thick head stretches me more than his fingers have before.
"Gods! Fuck! You're so tight, Baby. Are you ready for more?"
The sound that escapes me is a soft mix of a moan and a humming confirmation.
“Who knew this would be all it would take to get you to stop being so fucking sassy?” he teases, and I return the sentiment by squeezing my pelvic muscles around him.
“Fuuuuckkk, Seiri. You can't do that.”
"You can't stop me," I snap back, and realize I've just opened Pandora's Box a moment too late.
Hunters fingers dig into my sides, and I've never hurt so fucking good. His hips snap wildly against my skin, my moans only slightly muffled by the intensity of the rain still falling down around us.
“Hunt—”
“Yeah, Seiri?”
A whimper escapes me.
"Words, love. I need your words."
"Fucking ruin me."