I jog faster, weaving through the trees.
18
REVELATIONS
While I’m trapped head down over his shoulder, I summon the courage to ask him questions.
“Do you think you could stop doing…that.”
“With you wriggling and humping my hand? No.”
“I’m not humping!”
The asshole stiffens his fingers and leaves them there. He’s nearly wedged his fingertips into my entrance. This scatters my thoughts to hell and back, though there is cloth in between. I can’t help but squeeze my thighs onto his hand and that, regrettably, echoes into my clit. I exhale a stifled whimper.
“Admit you’re horny. Same as me.”
I huff, then half climb up his back by propping my arms on him, then give in and collapse back down.
I find another question. Talking hasn’t made him slow or miss a step. “Why did you tie me up, back there? Were you afraid I’d see something?”
“Yes. It wasn’t nice. Men dumped like they’re garbage.”
“Oh.”
“Also.” His stride falters and his voice roughens. “Because I wanted to.” He squeezes one ass cheek until I gasp at the pain. “I like fucking around with you.”
The pain hijacks my thoughts and heats me in ways I never imagined it could. I close my eyes to appreciate the disconnect from reality and the pulse of desire.
I fumble for a coherent reply and fail. “Huh.”
“Just huh?”
“Yes.”
He speeds up, jogging down the incline, going from rock to rock like this is a stroll on a boardwalk.
I rest my hand on his back, smoothing my palm over all those warm and wonderful moving muscles. Bumpy lines under his shirt tell me where he was stitched together.
Monster or man, I’m starting to wonder if the shell a soul is inside can make him different. It’s his actions that matter. Manners maketh man? I know that saying from somewhere.
I’ve never had a man want to do that—tie me up. It puts me at his mercy, allows him to do anything, maybe even hurt me like he did just now. Except the bites, the marks, the way he grabbed my ass, those were exciting.
A monster would have done things to me then left me for the bears, and he didn’t. I wobble fromit’s dangerous, toit’s hot, and end up withit’s not that sensible, considering what he is. A frankenstruct. Yet how can I see him as someone terrible when my world has fallen apart, and he is helping me stay alive?
I am, strangely, (or stupidly?) curious enough to want to experiment.
It’s getting easier to forget he was created from bits of dead people. Okay, so he’s not a handsome prince in shiny armor, but I can’t ignore what he did for me today. Murdered. He murdered for me.
I’m going in circles.
And my clit is ready to explode because of how his shoulder is rubbing on me.
He doesn’t act like a monster, but if he doesn’t stop teasing me… I readjust my position which only makes it worse, and I gasp out a breath when he leaps onto a rock, jarring me.
“Fuck,” I whisper, sounding strangled. As a distraction, I blurt another question. “I think I need you to help me.”
“To come?”
