Skipping Christmas with our families was one of the best decisions we could’ve made. We have time off from our jobs and can enjoy it together. I didn’t realize how much I needed this until now.
Now, to start off the new year, Ryan convinced me to reconnect with nature and go camping. He works as an accountant for a large outdoors company, and I am a freelance graphic designer. Basically, we sit at desks for a large part of our day. Hence, this trip and not having internet unless it’s hooked up to the truck’s Wi-Fi, which is spotty at best. It isn’t my ideal vacation.
Lying out by some form of water with a drink in my hand was my suggestion for our vacation. But again, the things you do for the people you love.
The hairs stand up on the back of my neck as I grow rigid. Stopping abruptly, my head swivels around, breathing deeply from exerting myself from the run. I could’ve sworn I heard whispering.
We knew this area would be empty due to the fact that people are still traveling or staying with family around the holidays.
Shaking my head, skepticism sweeps over me. I huff, thinking that I must be hearing things, so I turn in another direction and take off in a relaxed jog.
Not straying from the main path, I spot a divot and make a decision to catch my breath there for a minute and hide behind a tree. I regulate my breathing, inhaling through my nose and exhaling through my mouth. Then, I hear sneakers pounding the ground at a rapid rate, obviously belonging to Ryan.
My body stiffens, trying not to move an inch as I stay tucked behind the tree, willing him to pass by me, ecstatically grinning from ear to ear. Part of me wants him to find me, curious to see what he has in store.
Listening closely, I hold my breath as I attempt to detect which path he decided to choose, and it sounds like he took the path on the left. I leap out of my hiding place, planning to take the path on the right, when a hand suddenly slithers around my neck, choking me while pulling me back into his chest.
CHAPTER
TWO
“Oh, my little vixen, found so easily,” Ryan murmurs lustfully in my ear as he holds the knife with the blade backwards across my throat, not wanting to wound me. The mask barely brushes the side of my cheek, and my clit pulses with need.
His body radiates warmth as he draws in slow, deep breaths. I feel his bare chest, sweaty from the run. Wiggling my ass a bit, I feel the bulge in his jeans.
“Oh, Mister Ghostface, whatever are you going to do to me?” I ask as if I’m his prisoner trapped under his mercy, pressing my hand to my chest as I lift my head up to his 6’4 frame and gaze up, seductively batting my eyelashes.
“What’s the safe word?” he grunts out.
“Candy cane,” I mutter, voice tight.
Raising the mask above his mouth, he hums, “Good girl,” and licks the outline of my jaw from my chin to my ear, playfully nibbling it, then chillingly biting my earlobe.
With bated breath, I tremble eagerly as wetness forms between my thighs. He turns me around and strips me out of my clothes, unlacing my shoes and flinging my socks off. Next, he removes my jeans and oversized flannel I was wearing, along with my lacey bra and panties, and tosses them over in a pile.
The weather is a bit cooler this time of year, lower 60s, and my nipples perk at the briskness. Ryan takes a step back from me, dropping the knife. We take a moment to admire each other, our eyes lingering with intense longing. Ryan is naturally tan, with light blue eyes and muffled hair that hangs right above his eyes. At 5’5, I’m slimmer and not as into working out as I should be, with a smaller waist, huge boobs, light brown hair, and blue eyes.
He’s only donning the Ghostface mask, black jeans, and combat boots that are untied. With his broad shoulders and muscular chest and abs on display, he looks scary as hell, and I don’t have a clue as to why it arouses me.
Without thought, I part my legs before him, taking my hand and reaching between them, using my fingers to purposefully touch the bundle of nerves before sinking a finger inside of myself. Throwing my head back with a moan, I take my time removing my finger and show him the slickness coating it. With lightning speed, Ryan kicks off his boots and yanks his pants off; it comes as no surprise to me that he’s not wearing any boxers.
After his hard cock springs free, he stalks over to me, and he moves the mask up again so I can see his mouth. He snatches my wrist and pulls my finger into his mouth. Taking my finger all the way to the back of his throat, he sucks hard, making sure to taste every bit of me.
“I’ll never get tired of the taste of you,” he growls as he pulls my finger from his mouth. Impatiently, I get on my knees in front of him and begin stroking his cock, staring up at him, and not giving a second thought to the leaves and dirt covering the ground. He arches back, pressing his cock with more force into my hands, groaning while gaping up at the sky.
The mask is turning me on, and I fully intend to take that thought to the grave.
Feeling more daring, I take him in both hands and line my chest up to his cock. I place it between my breasts, and my hands push together, fastening his cock in place while he immediately begins thrusting back and forth.
He’s moaning uncontrollably now, peering down at the sight of me. Abruptly, he tugs himself out of my hold and slaps his cock against my breasts. Holding himself, he places the glistening tip on my lips, and I fix my gaze on him, nodding in approval.
He drifts his dick over my lips, and I swirl my tongue on the salty head, my mouth parting for him. Without pause, he drives himself all the way into the back of my throat, and my nose pushes against his pubic bone.
My hands clasp his thighs right away as my fingers dig into his skin, one of his hands skims through my hair, and he winds it around his hand.
Allowing my jaw to go slack, he uses my mouth as he slams himself repeatedly into the back of my throat.
“Such. A. Good. Fucking. Whore,” he rumbles.
