I pant. My limbs burn. My lungs struggle, air becoming scarce as it’s replaced with fear. Branches scrap my face and hands and arms, tearing my loose thermal shirt and painting its edges with fresh, crimson blood.
I panic, breaths coming in short and vision whitening at the edges with the fear pumping through my system. But I don’t relent.
I come to a clearing when the thunder breaks, creating a new hymn. My clothes gather against my back with sweat. I shiver, the late October air too frigid for my attire.
I look up and blanch. I was here fifteen minutes ago.
I’m running in circles.
A growl echoes in the open space between the trees. Sinister. Low. And enticing.
It’s too late.
He’s found me.
A fearful cry escapes me when a dark silhouette emerges from between the trees. A half mask with a skull covers the stranger’s face, his naked chest glistening with a mix of mist and sweat, tight dark jeans on his strong legs. No matter how fast I run, he can catch up to me. He’s just toying with me.
I run again, whimpering, not looking behind this time. I can’t let him have me. He’ll feast until I have nothing left to give.
He’s too fast. I catch sight of him on my left, eyes alight with amusement and a predatory glint that has me crying out. Mythroat is raw and parched, my lungs burning with the need to catch more oxygen as I push my body to run faster, to escape.
“Run, little rose,” a murmur says on my right this time and I yelp, veering left to avoid the beast that’s after my soul.
And I fall into his trap. I glance behind me and run straight into tightening arms. I lash out, my training forgotten. None of my punches land and I resort to nails and flailing limbs. I’m exhausting myself too fast, and the monster barely huffs at my poor attempts at escape.
He chuckles, his rough voice in my ears sending a shiver of dread up my spine.
“So feisty. I love it best when you struggle.”
“Let me go,” I yell but no one comes to my aid. No one can save me here.
I manage to scratch his brow, slickness coating my nails and fingers and my attacker grunts, releasing me for just a second. It’s enough. I jump away. I run like my life depends on it
And I’m yanked back by my hair.
I screech as my back hits hard, unyielding muscles. “That wasn’t very nice,” the monster growls, a hint of something feral underneath the jovial tone of his raspy voice. Like I amuse him, like I’m an appetiser to his sinister feast. Still, I fight, even as he presses my face against the humid bark of a nearby tree, a firm hand on the back of my neck.
He tugs my arms behind me, quick movements restraining my wrists, immobilising me and thrusting my chest against the tree. A blade appears in front of my face. My breath catches, and I whimper.Shit. A tear glides on my cheek, a sob racking my body.
Slowly, the cool metal is pressed against the soft skin of my stomach, between my body and the tree, the sharp edge slicing through the material of my clothes. Warm breath caresses my cheek. “Are you okay, Lu? Do you want to stop?”
Through the fog of my fear, concern fleets and anchors me to reality. Air climbs into my lungs again and I shake my head. “I’m okay, Toma.”
He groans with approval, pressing his body against mine, his erection nestled between my ass cheeks. The shiver, this time, is one of confused arousal. His calloused fingers are rough as he divests me from my ruined tee-shirt.
“Stay still,” the Beast commands.
He pulls down my pants and crouches to help me step out of them. Meanwhile, his firm hand never leaves my lower back, pushing me against the tree. When I’m naked save for the flimsy thong covering my pussy, his chest rumbles with appreciation. Goosebumps erupt on my skin. It must be cold outside but I can’t feel it anymore, torn between burning with the exertion of my failed escape and the torching heat of this strange lust that’s igniting my entire body.
Once again, my body freezes in fear when the metal of his knife glides against my thigh. A quick flick breaks the fabric of my thong on one side, then the other, and cool air met the apex of my thighs.
“Stop, please. Let me go,” I cry again but if he hears me, he doesn’t react.
Kicking my feet apart, he steals my breaths when he enters my pussy from behind with two thick fingers and find me wet and ready. Embarrassment floods me. My blood sings at the intrusion, but my whole body trembles with shame.
“Now, why would I do that, when I have you exactly where I want you? And look at that.” He withdraws his fingers and lifts his hand, showing me the proof of how much I want this.
His laughter is cruel, in complete opposition with the soft kiss he lands on my shoulder.
