CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
BUNNY
Leaving the jingle of the gift shop, I kick off into a jog, adamant on getting to the trailer as fast as I can. It’s bothering me not knowing if we’ve been watched this entire time, or what rooms might be infected.
Cursing under my breath and targeting the rusty keep out sign on our gate in the trees, something hard rolls beneath my shoe. I try to ignore it, but natural curiosity for what I just squashed rams my body into a stop, my head swiveling back to inspect the pavement.
I don’t have to look hard. The white silk bow tied around the foot of a cottontail sticks out among the littered ends of straw wrappers and cigarette filters.
My sight bends into an hourglass, my heart reaching up my neck.
Anyone could’ve dropped that… We have the fucking, uh…
“Shit,” I exhale, panning around the moving bodies, looking for… I don’t know, something that vibrates my intuition.
If I even have one anymore. Duse made it seem like I was one step away from falling into a trap. I mean, I sensed something was off, but I kept going. What if this is a similar trap? What if it’s that same guy from Odder Than an Oddity screwing with me?
I should go tell Razor.
No, you need to grow up and handle something on your own.
But I already have something I’m supposed to be handling. I’m supposed to be running and telling…
That’s not me handling something, though. That’s me putting it in everyone else’s hands and getting shoved to a corner with a blindfold while they deal with it.
You and I both know they’d find something else for me to do.
Okay, fucking focus! Goddamn it, Bunny!
People blur around me, moving in kaleidoscope lines each direction.
I feel like I’m letting Razor down by squatting for the rabbit’s foot and standing back up with it.
Just thinking about him being disappointed that I didn’t do a simple task, that I broke the sliver of trust he put in me, digs my grave a little deeper.
Sweating, the beads lifting on my face collect the torrid heat, rotating the cleanly amputated rabbit’s foot. It seems professionally done, not like some psycho killer just freshly did it and tossed it my way.
Unless they just went and stole it—then tossed it my way.
Mid-turn, I almost give up, almost jam it down into my pocket to go do what I’m supposed to be doing. But the black ink scribbled on the underside of the bow has me moving it around to read it.
Don’t forget your mask.
Don’t forget my… My mask is in my tent. Or is this some cheesy metaphor for something depressing?
Kind of getting a little irritated from how often I’m stuck on a hamster wheel, I lose all sense of rationality and start weaving through everyone, following the rope tugging me to my tent.
“BUNNY?!”
The hostile bark shatters my nerves, lurching to a stop and swiveling. Exceeding everyone’s height, standing alone in a dome people migrate around, Razor has his vicious stare locked on me, his jaw clenched, his head tilted.
Shit.
Fumbling to get the rabbit’s foot in my pocket, I don’t think about anything else—other than running.
Razor has an influence that convinces you it’s life or death.
Despite knowing that he’d never kill me, he’s just too violently sharp and manic.
He’s unpredictable. And yet, somehow, the doom of the unknown, the fear of a threatening predator, warms my pelvis just as intensely as it strangles my veins.
Kicking off the pavement in his direction, I veer more to the right, cutting it close to the trees that hide the chain-link fence.
He’s watching me. His predator drive is hunting me, probably clicking his pulse higher and higher with the anticipation of knowing how easy I am to catch.
I’m running for the gate, blowing past the spot he’s standing in, and it’s like the environment favors my side. A rare gust of wind is rattling the trees, the whip of air scathing my pulsing face.
It’s my warning that he’s coming.
Scampering into the opening, my balloon heart lets a squeal up my throat, having to stop and flip over the latch of the gate. I yank it open, desperately fitting sideways through the gap and stomping over the dirt.
The clear path ahead tunnels, stretching farther and farther, increasing the angst of not making it out alive. I heave for stagnant air, swinging my arms and kicking off the ground as fast as I can, my thighs erupting in a distracting burn.
Everything blurs.
His big hands are coming around my waist and I’m getting ripped back, my weight flying through my legs in a staggering spin. “Wait!”
The trees bleed together, and the very second my feet are meeting the ground again, my face is getting pressed into scratchy bark, his enforced pressure driving my cheek into the pain.
A moan tenses my chest, clawing my hands into the grooves of bark, morphing into some disgusting animal willing to be punished for the sake of pleasure.
He crowds me, fisting the two buns my hair is tied back in, slipping his hand into the side opening of my overalls. “Bad little bunny.” His growl comes over my shoulder, his palm wandering up my shirt, cupping my breast roughly.
“I’m sorry,” I breathe, arching into his cage.
Each heavy breath pollutes the air around my face with specks of dirt that once hibernated in the jagged notches of the tree, permeating the scent of soil.
“I tell you to do one simple thing, baby.” Using his arm to push my tank top up on my chest, he squeezes my boob harder, grinding into me. “Since you didn’t listen, you’re gonna make it up to me.”
I don’t decide to nod. The pandemonium spitting through my core makes me, my legs widening on their own accord, expecting him to fuck me in this very spot.
He kisses my ear, breathing hard and unclipping my overall strap. “No one’s gonna hear you scream.”
A chill shakes my spine, unable to answer before he’s pulling me off the tree and spinning me toward the grass. I get shoved down to all fours, my hands splaying around dehydrated blades and loose dirt, his body coming down right behind mine.
My clit throbs, letting him tear my overalls down and off my legs, leaving me only in my raised tank top and lace trimmed panties, my shoes scraping through the dirt as he pushes my legs wider.
“Of fucking course you’re soaked.” He rubs my pussy through my panties, bringing attention to the wet spot.
“I like running from you,” I admit, whining silently, pushing into his touch.
He shifts around, bracing his hands around my hips, lifting my butt high enough into the air for him to suck on me through the cotton.
The heat of his tongue shudders my muscles, wobbling to support the weight on my arms. I try to shelter my moan, but he’s hooking into my panties and pulling them to the side, taking full of advantage of how spread open I am.
The second his dripping taste buds slide up the ache, euphoria is bursting through my body, releasing a raspy sound from my chest.
He’s only holding me up with one hand now. And he makes it seem like a breeze, considering he’s taking his time sinking his fingers inside me while sucking on my clit like candy, the back-and-forth motion of his tongue and gentle slide of his fingers inflating my pelvis.
I’m coming before I realize it. A wrathful fire is tensing my body, burning bright and hard, lighting up my nerves with a cataclysm that crosses my vision.
I cry. Pray. Bellow. It all feels the same right now, letting out the moan that stretches further the longer he dines on me.
Thinking he’s done, thinking he’s taking his tongue away, the wet drag up my butt pops my eyes open.
Different place. Same sensation of pleasure.
It scares me to be honest. I’m worried about how much my body likes his touch there, how carefree I become under his compulsion. That’s subjectively a horrifying place to be licked. But he’s making it so normal, making it and me feel good.
Like he was using his fingers to prepare me, he’s scissoring them inside me and slipping them out, swirling his tongue around my tight muscle and using my juices on his fingers to rub my clit.
My arms go numb, the sounds of Vore morphing into white noise. Right when I’m getting there again, about to come from him playing with me, he’s dropping me back down to my knees.
Aggravation surfaces. My face gets hotter, the sweat on my skin increasing. It’s short lived, though. His zipper flying down drains me of annoyance, a leap of excitement flipping my stomach and turning me back to him, my hazy gaze directing over my shoulder.
His dark, hungry eyes flick up, his thick cock coming out with his hand.
Pumping himself, his hold on my hip turns ruthless, his spread fingers indenting my ass cheek.
“I wanted to rip your clothes off and rail you, make you take it while you eat the dirt.” His shoulders relax with a groan, his muscles bulging in tandem with his strokes.
“But I can’t help myself with you, Bunny.
That pretty, little pussy needs me to take care of it. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes,” I murmur, nodding, my eyelids falling heavy.
My answer has him huffing, his brows pinching as he rushes to pull my panties down to my knees.
“How do you wanna learn your lesson, baby? Huh?” Coming up over me, he coasts his hand up my spine, pressing between my shoulder blades and pushing my chest down into the dirt, the head of his cock teasing my pussy.
His lips skim my ear. “You want me filling your cunt? Or you want me to fuck that tight ass?”
The question vibrates me, clutching the grass, oxygen becoming scarce.
I know he just had his tongue back there.
But I can’t help it. And I don’t care. His heat, the sweet pheromones coming off him, they’re driving my mouth back to his, fervently taking his lips within mine and plunging my tongue through the seal.
I don’t have to answer. He’s desperate, too.