Then I hear it—the unmistakable sound of a twig snapping somewhere to my left.
I freeze, every muscle tense, ears straining to catch any hint of movement. Nothing for several heartbeats, then:
“I can smell your cologne, Ryder.” Dom’s voice cuts through the darkness. He sounds closer than I expected.
“Thirty minutes of chase is impressive,” he continues, his voice moving, circling. “But we’re going to catch you soon enough. And when we do...” A pause, heavy with promise. “We’re going to absolutely destroy you.”
My breath catches. My cock leaks in my pants.
I press my back against a tree, heart hammering as Dom’s words echo through the darkened forest. My fingertips dig into rough bark, anchoring me as desire threatens to overwhelm my senses.
“Oh, sweet boy,” Cora’s voice drifts through the darkness from a different direction. “When we find you, we’re going to tie you up so tight you won’t be able to move. Just helpless for us.”
Fuck. I bite my lip to keep from moaning aloud, giving away my position.
“We’ve got rope,” she continues. “And leather restraints. We’re going to bind your wrists above your head to a tree, spread your legs wide open, and take our time with you.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, my breathing ragged. Precum leaks, soaking through my underwear as I picture exactly what she’s describing. The thought of being completely restrained, at their mercy, exposed and vulnerable while the three of them take their pleasure—it’s almost too much.
“You’ll be begging before we’re done,” Cora’s voice is practically a purr now. “Begging for release, begging for mercy.”
My knees nearly buckle. I press my palm against my cock, applying pressure to ease the throbbing ache. The woods around me seem to spin, reality blurring with fantasy as her words paint vivid pictures in my mind.
I should keep running. I should try to extend this chase, this delicious anticipation. But Cora’s promise of what awaits when they catch me has me frozen in place, torn between flight and surrender.
A hand clamps violently over my mouth as another arm locks around my waist, yanking me backward against a hard chest.
“Got you,” Liam’s voice hisses hot against my ear.
Instinct and desire collide as I thrash against him, my elbow connecting with his ribs. He grunts but doesn’t loosen his grip. I’m not making this easy—I want him to work for it, to prove he’s strong enough to take what I’m offering.
“Fuck, you’re feisty,” he growls, twisting my arm behind my back.
I buck against him, slamming my head backward. He dodges, gripping my throat with one hand while forcing me face-first into a nearby tree. The rough bark scrapes my cheek as he presses the length of his body against mine.
“Fighting?” His teeth scrape my earlobe. “Good. I’ll enjoy breaking you.”
I struggle, feeling his erection grinding against my ass. I’m panting now, sweat trickling down my spine as I fight harder, not because I want to escape but because I need him to overpower me.
Liam kicks my legs apart, forcing me off-balance. In one swift move, he has me on my knees, my chest pressed into the soft forest floor, arms wrenched behind my back.
“Stay down,” he commands, and I feel something against my wrists—leather restraints.
I strain against the bindings, not to break free but to feel their unyielding grip. The helplessness sends a fresh wave of arousal through me so intense that I moan into the dirt.
Footsteps approach from different directions. I turn my head to see Dom and Cora entering the clearing, moonlight highlighting their masks. The sight of them—powerful, predatory, watching me bound and subdued—makes me whimper with need.
“We’ve got our prize,” Dom’s voice cuts through the night, deep and possessive.
Cora circles around, crouching to lift my chin with her finger.
“Look how beautiful he is when he surrenders,” she murmurs, thumb tracing my lower lip as I pant against her touch.
“String him up with the rope to that tree,” Dom orders, pointing to a thick oak a few feet away. His voice carries that unmistakable command that makes my cock throb painfully against my jeans.
Liam hauls me to my feet, his grip firm on my bound arms. I stumble forward, heart racing as they position me with my back against the rough bark.
“Arms up,” Dom instructs, producing a coil of rope from his pack.
