The excitement was overwhelming, her heart pounding as she tore through the woods, no path insight, just limbs and undergrowth impeding her at every turn. There was no hope of escape, not into town and not to her cottage, and that thought only thrilled her more.
What would happen when they caught her?
She had no time to fantasize, not when she heard her name being called, an echo that enveloped her in its sound.
“Isabelle…”
The voice came from all around her, deep and throaty, and a shiver trembled up her spine. She changed direction, then changed again, no idea where she was going, every ounce of energy focused on getting away.
“It’s so cute when you run, sweet one.”
Another voice–one she could only assume was Rul’s–echoing around her, like she was prey being circled by the predator.
Predators.
“What are we going to do when we find her?”
“We’re going to fuck her until she begs for mercy.”
They were mocking her, and she loved every moment of it, was eager for the finale, especially knowing Bellinor had made all this for her. Her very own woods, handcrafted from le Voile.
Isabelle ducked behind a large tree, trying to catch her breath, attempting to listen for any sign of movement, though she knew it was useless when they were as silent as hawks. There was a rustle in the brush behind her, and she started running again, though slower than before, her legs beginning to ache.
“I think our little plaything wishes to be caught,” a voice singsonged, deep bellows of laughter reverberating from all around her.
“Naughty girl.I suppose we should give her what she wants.”
There was a loud crash, and Isabelle screamed as she was knocked to the ground, a shadow blocking out the dappled sunlight peeking through the trees. She gasped for air, desperately trying to suck in a breath as Bellinor flipped her over and grabbed her arms, restraining them above her head.
Rul was at her feet, holding her flailing legs as she tried to kick him. He hiked her dress up with his tail, letting the warm tip brush over her stomach and tickle her skin.
“You did so good, little prey. And now it’s time to eat you up.”
Without warning, he opened his mouth, fangs glinting in the sunlight before they punctured the soft flesh of her inner thigh. Isabelle let out a howling scream, struggling in their grasps, though they held her down.
A second later, Bellinor was at her shoulder, reopening the wound from their last time in the woods. The pain was immediate and sharp, her head swimming as they drank from her, forked tongues lapping at her sticky blood.
Tears spilled down her cheeks, wetting the mossy ground, her body trembling as the pain started to subside.
There was a growl, then Bellinor tackled Rul to the ground, their hard bodies colliding in a flurry offeathers. Snarls emanated from the fray, the men wrestling until Bellinor ended up on top, straddling Rul’s waist, their cocks pressed together. He pinned Rul’s arms with one large hand, the other stroking over both of their lengths in tandem, the slickness of her blood easing the way.
Isabelle was frozen to her spot, entranced by the sight of their cocks rubbing against each other, Bellinor’s hips rocking, the moans emanating from each monster. She wanted them both inside of her, her mouth, her cunt, whatever they desired. But they wanted a fight, and she would do what little she could to provide that.
She rolled over, trying to crawl away, though all of her limbs felt like they were made of gelatin. She didn’t get far before she heard a chuckle, someone grabbing her ankles and dragging her back along the mossy ground.
There was a jolt of pain as she was spanked, her cunt tightening from the strike.
“Where do you think you’re going? Aren’t you eager to get your holes fucked by us? Should I take your ass today?”
Rul swiped his hand through the blood dripping from her thigh, painting it over her tight ring as an erotic whimper escaped her lips. He hiked her hips into the air, then shoved a finger into her hole, her cry echoing to the treetops.
Bellinor was in front of her, kneeling and petting his fingers along her cheek, a look of pure rapture on his bloodied face.
“Do you want him to stop?” he asked, cocking his head.
That strange, disembodied voice filled her with bliss, the monstrous beast before her stroking her so softly. Even Rul was being gentle–as gentle as he could, at least–pressing another finger in as her tight ring clamped down on him. He was shaking, one hand gripping her like he was a moment away from losing control, the deep growl rumbling in his chest sending a pulse of arousal through her.
“No,” she breathed, looking up at Bellinor as she pushed herself onto all fours. “Please don’t stop.”
