Chapter 5
SUMMER
Iwake up warm, that's the first wrong thing. The second is the arm around my waist, heavy and possessive, fingers spread across my stomach. The third is that I'm naked, completely naked, no sheet, no dress, nothing between my skin and his except heat and the smell of cedar and sex.
My eyes snap open.
I’m in his bedroom, his bed. The curtains are cracked and thin morning light cuts a line across the marble floor, and I can feel him behind me, his chest against my back, his breath slow and steady against my neck.
He's still asleep even though his arm tightens around me like a reflex, pulling me closer, and I feel his cock hard against my ass.
My stomach drops, remembering last night, the dinner table, the wax, the way I launched myself at him, the way I said yes to him fucking me.
What was I thinking?
He came inside me.
We didn’t use a condom.
Shit!
Panic hits me so fast my vision blurs. I can't get pregnant, not here, not by him, not by this man, he’s a monster.
He cuffed me to a chair, put a dildo inside me, and told me he was going to take me apart piece by piece.
He took me as collateral for my father’s debt as if I were worth nothing.
Apparently, you’re worth fifty million. I shake that thought from my mind.
I gave in to him last night. What was I thinking?
I kissed him first. I chose it, and that's worse than anything he could have forced because at least if I was being forced, I could blame him.
I need to get out of this bed, as a panic attack starts to take over.
I lift his arm carefully, holding my breath.
He shifts but doesn't wake, and I slide out from under him.
My feet hit the floor and I'm moving before I can think.
His closet is open, and I grab the first things I see, a black T-shirt that hangs to my thighs, and a pair of his shorts that I have to roll at the waist three times.
His shoes are too big, so I forget about them.
I'm out of the bedroom and down the corridor in seconds.
The villa is quiet, the staff aren't up yet or they're somewhere I can't see. The glass doors to the pool deck are closed but not locked. I slide one open and the morning heat is already building, thick and damp, the sun barely above the tree line. I scan the area, not the beach, I need to try another exit, he’ll expect me to go there again.
I cut left this time, past the garden, past the edge of the property where the manicured lawn turns to wild grass and then jungle.
The vegetation is thick and dark, and I push into it without stopping, branches scratching my arms and legs, vines catching at the oversized shirt.
I can't believe I let him touch me and that I touched him back.
I can't believe I came on his thigh, on his dinner chair, and on his table.
I kissed him, and I let him come inside me without a condom like some desperate idiot who forgot every rule she ever made for herself.
The jungle swallows me. It's dense and loud, with birds screaming in the canopy and insects humming in the undergrowth.
The ground is soft and damp under my bare feet.
I don't know where I'm going, I just need to not be in that bed, in that room, in his arms where I fit too well and slept too soundly.
I make it maybe ten minutes before I hear him.
Not footsteps, nothing that obvious, but a branch snaps somewhere behind me, then silence, then another snap, this time closer.
He's not hurrying, he's tracking me, giving me a lead, letting me burn off my own energy while he walks.
I keep moving, keep pushing. My feet are cut on rocks or roots, and sweat is already soaking through his shirt.
The jungle gets thicker, and I push through walls of green, my arms out in front of me, my breathing ragged.
"You went left this time," his voice comes from somewhere behind me, calm, almost conversational. "That's an improvement."
I don't answer as I push harder into the undergrowth.
"There's a waterfall about two hundred meters ahead." He's closer now. "The drop won't kill you, but you'll probably break both ankles or drown."
I stop.
My chest is heaving and my legs shake. The cuts on my feet are stinging, and I can hear him right behind me now, but I don’t realize how close he actually is until his hand closes around the back of my neck.
“Got you,” he growls, voice low and dark.
I fight like hell, twisting, kicking, clawing at his arms. He spins me around so my chest is against a tree.
He then pins my wrists above my head with one brutal hand and yanks the shorts down my legs with the other, they catch around my ankles, and he doesn’t bother removing them.
I try to kick him, which makes him laugh darkly.
I can’t get him from this angle. He spits loudly, and then I feel his fingers slide over my folds as he rubs his spit roughly over my bare pussy, spreading the saliva messily.
Without another word, he’s pushing the head of his cock against my entrance.
Shit.
I’m still sore, still swollen from last night.
He doesn’t care. He thrusts in hard, forcing every inch inside me in one long, brutal stroke. I scream at the fullness, the stretch burns, he’s so deep it feels like he’s in my stomach. He groans against my neck, hips pressed flush against my ass.
“Still so fucking tight,” he rasps. “Even after being stretched at dinner.”
He starts moving, slow at first, deep, grinding strokes that make me feel every thick inch. The bark scrapes against my tits with every thrust. My feet barely touch the ground, I’m pinned, impaled, and completely at his mercy.
“Please …” I hear myself begging, the shame sits heavy in my chest.
“Please, what?” He bites my shoulder hard. “Please stop? Or please fuck you harder like the dirty little slut you are?”
I’m not sure, but both sound good right now.
He picks up speed, fucking me harder, the wet, filthy sound of his cock slamming into my soaked pussy echoing through the jungle. I’m dripping down his balls, and I can feel it running down my thighs.
It’s humiliating.
He reaches around and pinches my clit sharply.
I jerk and moan like a whore.
“You’re creaming all over me again.” He laughs darkly, pinching my clit again. “Running away with my cum still inside you, and this greedy cunt is still begging for more.”
He fucks me like an animal, with long, punishing strokes that knock the breath out of me. My face is pressed against the bark, tears streaming down my cheeks, drool slipping from my mouth as I moan and sob. He slows down suddenly, grinding deep, rolling his hips in filthy circles.
“Feel that?” he murmurs against my ear. “Feel how deep I am? That’s my cum from last night still inside you. I’m just adding more.”
I come without warning, hard, shaking, screaming into the tree as my pussy spasms violently around him and my legs give out completely.
He holds me up and keeps fucking me through it, drawing it out until I’m a whimpering, sobbing mess.
Only then does he let himself go. He buries himself to the hilt and comes with a deep, guttural groan, flooding me again.
Pulse after pulse of hot cum fills me. He stays inside me for a long time, breathing hard against my neck, occasionally giving lazy thrusts like he’s making sure it stays deep.
When he finally pulls out, a thick gush of his cum runs down my thighs and drips onto the jungle floor.
He yanks my shorts back up roughly, then throws me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing.
“Keep running, Summer,” he says quietly as he starts carrying me back. “I’ll enjoy hunting you down and breeding this cunt every single time.”
My body is limp, exhausted, cum still leaks down my thighs with every step he takes as the jungle slowly thins around us.
After a minute of silence, I mutter against his back, voice hoarse and broken.
“You really want me pregnant?”
Kairo’s hand tightens on my thigh.
“I want you full of me,” he answers, low and dark. “I want you swollen, so everyone knows exactly who you belong to.”
I close my eyes, shame twisting in my stomach. “I don’t want to have babies with you. You’re a fucking monster,” I say as my fists pound against his back.
“And yet your cunt is ready and willing for me every single time.”
I hate him because he’s right.
“Just because you know how to fuck doesn’t mean I like it.”
This makes him laugh. “The way you fucking cream yourself for me tells me how much you do like it.”
“You’re sick.”
He chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest. “Maybe, but you came twice with my cock buried in you, what does that say about you, wife?”
I don’t answer.
He keeps walking, his grip firm and steady, like he has no intention of ever letting me go again.