I shift on my feet, resisting the urge to go back and look for Chase, but Elliot is still hovering, and I don’t need him tagging along.
“Well, I’m heading back to my lodge,” I say, hoping he finally takes the hint.
Elliot loiters, his foot tapping restlessly. “We should catch up before the retreat ends,” he adds, like he’s searching for an excuse to keep me here.
“Sure,” I say, though my patience is wearing thin.
He stares at me for a moment longer, then finally exhales and rubs the back of his neck. “Alright, see you around.”
I watch as he turns and strides toward his own cabin.
I exhale, relieved to be alone at last.
The lodges are scattered deep within the forest, individual wooden cabins with rustic charm, each equipped with a fireplace, spaced far enough apart for privacy. I barely had time to drop my bag off this morning before the meeting, but now I’m looking forward to finally settling in.
The path grows darker as I walk, the trees crowding in, their branches weaving a thick canopy overhead, the faint moonlight filtering through the leaves.
And then I see him.
A shadowed figure, barely distinguishable from the darkness, leaning against my door, arms folded, legs crossed.
I stop, my pulse spiking, eyes straining to make out his features. Then, the faintest shift in movement—the slow uncrossing of his arms, the tilt of his head—and recognition slams into me.
Chase.
He’s waiting, half-hidden in the shadows. His body is relaxed, but his gaze is locked on mine with an intensity that sends a slow ripple of heat through me.
Like he’s already decided exactly how this ends.
I stride towards the doorway, feigning confidence, refusing to give him the satisfaction of how nervous I am.
“Chase,” I say, reaching for my keys, my tone breezy as if a neighbor had just popped around for a cup of sugar. “I was beginning to think you’d been abducted by aliens.” A nervous laugh tumbles out, which vanishes the instant he snatches my waist and spins me around, slamming my back against the door.
His hand snakes around my throat, his fingers gently pressing, caressing the skin, before tightening enough to make my heart skip a beat.
“Did you enjoy playing your little game, Violet?” His voice wraps around me like velvet, smooth but with an edge, a veiled warning.
“Yes,” I fire back with a smirk, my face inches from his, defiance making me bold. “But I thinkyouenjoyed playing it a lot more.”
His lips curl in a sneer, but I see the heat flaring in his eyes. As much as he loves to dominate, it excites him to be challenged.
I gasp as he rips my shirt off in one fluid motion; the buttons scatter to the floor, the suddenness of it taking my breath away. His fingers trail down my neck and collarbone before brushing over my bra strap. He takes his time, letting his fingers linger, teasing as if he’s enjoying how much it affects me.
“I hope you’re ready, Violet. You just started something I’m going to enjoy every second finishing.”
Before I can even react, he unfastens my bra, tearing it away with one sharp movement. I choke out a startled cry as the cold air hits my already taut nipples, the shock of it sending a jolt through me.
I press my palms into the door to anchor myself as he crouches down. His hands slide over my side, his fingers easily peeling my leggings down my hips. His touch sears my skin as he works. My shoes follow suit, slipping off without me even realizing it until I’m standing in nothing but my lace panties.
“Fuck, Violet,” he hisses with approval as his eyes roam over me. My heart pounds, rattling my ribs as his fingers skim my thighs, brushing the lace between them. Slowly, he rises, trailing his lips over my skin, pausing to rake his teeth over my nipple, sucking and licking, watching me in awe as he draws a desperate moan from me with each deliberate stroke of his tongue.
“Chase,” I breathe out as he feasts on my nipple with hungry insistence. “You need to stop. Someone might see us.” It’s a feeble plea as I lose myself in the sensations, tingles shooting from head to toe, my core clenching so hard I could scream.
He emits a low, dark chuckle, my resistance spurring him on. His thumb drags over my nipple, sliding down my ribs, hooking inside my lace panties before he yanks them down. “Do you think I care, Violet, who sees us? I’ll fuck your naked, wet pussy against this door, and you’ll scream my name until you finally realize you’re mine.”
“I’m not yours...” I begin, my words extinguishing when he spreads me open, pressing two fingers into my wet heat.
“That’s the wrong fucking answer, Violet.” His fingertips slip deep into the center of my aching pussy, pumping in and out until I’m riding his relentless rhythm.
