I’m so much more aware of my body this time. The weight of my limbs as I run, as though they’re conflicted about escaping.
I could let him catch me. I shove the thought away. Bad thoughts. Naughty thoughts. No.
“I’m coming for you.” Kirill’s voice echoes from behind me.
A burst of speed accompanies his threat. Or promise. My feet slap on the path, and the birds chirp, and the leaves rustle. But I’m listening forhim. I keep going, pumping my arms, my legs wobbly spindles.
Then I hear him. His solid footsteps, confident and fast.
He’s close behind me, and I’m caught, there’s no question.
“Lapochka,” he taunts.
I dodge to the left, then the right, staying on the path, and remaining just out of reach.
It’s exhilarating, this chase. I like pushing myself, the challenge of trying to outwit a man stronger and more experienced than I am.
I love it, in fact. And knowing that the stakes are high, but a loss might be even better than a win?
It’s a desire I didn’t know I had. Playful and serious in a way I had no idea I wanted.
He grabs for me, but I dart off to the side, crashing through the undergrowth of shrubs and long grass.
Kirill swears colourfully, and I laugh, because yeah, he won’t like this. I’m smaller than him, and so I can nip between the bushes where they snatch at him. But his longer legs are an advantage as we get into a patch of reeds.
I check behind me, and all the space I opened up has been closed. He’s just there.
He makes a grab and I let out a shriek and surge away. Then my foot sinks, and the next step I take I’m slower, caught in mud I didn’t expect.
We’re off the path, it shouldn’t be a surprise it’s muddy here, even in the summer.
Adrenaline spikes down my arms and legs as I throw myself forward, and out of the mud, onto a solid patch of reeds. He curses, and the sound is near. I dare a glance over my shoulder and he’s ankle deep in mud, and the noises he’s making aren’t pleased.
My amusement is mixed with worry, because it’s all fine until he goes back on his word.
But I have a chance. He’s heavier than me. These few seconds could count.
I randomly go left because it looks drier, the solid soil beneath my feet reassuring. There are bigger trees this way, including an oak with a path leading off from it.
Yes. If I can get back on a path, I can?—
The force of Kirill grabbing me around the waist and scooping me with him knocks the breath out of me as he propels us forwards.
The next thing I know, he has me pinned against the big oak trunk with his body, and we’re both breathing hard. The pink neon of his mask glows, sinister.
Then he’s ripped it off, and his eyes glint silver in the light and shadow of the tree’s leaves shifting with the wind above us.
I’m standing on a bit of root, so although he’s looking down at me, the height difference isn’t as extreme as usual. But he’s big. Somehow, I keep forgetting how delicate his wide chest makes me feel.
He pulls me to him, his cock rivalling the wood behind me for hardness. I’m not surprised by that anymore, and the flip of my tummy is all arousal and excitement.
“Tess,” he breathes, then his hand is at my nape, holding my head in place, and his lips are on mine. Taking the kiss that claims me as his for another day.
14
KIRILL
She kisses me back. For a second I think I’m dreaming, but no. She arches against me, so perfectly responsive.
