I don’t. It’s all trees and vines and feathery ferns. I keep pushing through, ducking low, trying to run as best I can when the forest keeps trying to ensnare me, like it wants to intervene on his behalf.
Then I hear rustling. Not behind me. Off to my left.
I freeze, breathing hard. The rustling continues, soft and whispery. Now it sounds like it’s coming from my right.
“Theo?” I whimper, spinning around in place. I can’t see a damn thing: not here in the dense woods, away from what little light the lake provides.
A snap of a broken branch. I jerk around, my breath tight and panicky.
He’s here.
He stands just a few feet away, nothing more than a shadow against the darkness. My chest constricts; how did he get thereso fast? I don’t remember Callie moving like that. But then, that night was years ago, and I had been tipsy from the $5 Mai Tais. Not like tonight, when I’m stone cold sober and know exactly what I’m looking at.
Theo steps toward me, and when he tilts his head, his eyes turn red for a moment, like some predatory animal. I jerk back instinctively, heart hammering, and slam into the broad trunk of a tree.
“Do you want me to keep running?” I ask raggedly. All I want is for him to say yes.
He nods.
I peel away from the tree and duck back into the underbrush. This time, though, he follows after me, his steps heavy and calculated compared to my frantic, panicked running. Branches snap out at me, stinging my cheeks with whips of pain. Roots claw at my ankles, and I stumble but manage to upright myself before I fall.
He’s getting closer, and I wonder if this is how all his victims felt, if they ran through the woods in the darkness like this, blind and terrified. I wonder if I’m about to become one of them.
Then I erupt out of the trees. I’m not expecting it; I thought I was running deeper into the woods, toward Theo’s cabin. But no. Hanging Lake rolls out in front of me, its black water filled with diamonds. I have a brief flickering thought about how beautiful it is, like the sky fell to the earth.
Then I slip on a loose patch of stones and fall face-first into the water.
It’s shockingly cold, especially compared to the damp heat of the night, the damp heat of my skin. I wrench my head back, gasping as the steely taste floods my mouth?—
And then a big, rough hand curls around my throat.
I freeze. We both do, just for a second. Then Theo yanks me up to standing and winds his other arm around my waist,pinning me up against him. I can feel his cock pressing into the small of my back. He breathes softly, warming my skin.
“You caught me,” I say weakly, staring out at the water.
He pulls me around to face him. I can’t make out much in the darkness, aside from his pale hair, which shines platinum in the moonlight. And his left eye, which shines red again as he drinks me in.
I hold my breath, waiting, my hands curled into fists. There’s a part of me that thinks this might be it. I’m going to die. The idea doesn’t bother me as much as it should.
Theo presses his hand to the top of my head and forces me down to my knees. I slam into the mud, the lake water lapping around my legs, as he holds me in place with one hand.
The other hand unbuckles his belt. Zips down his fly. Pulls out his cock.
Heat explodes in me. Relief, too. When he bats his big cockhead against my lips, I open them to pull him into my mouth, eager and hungry. Maybe I’m rewarding him for not killing me. I don’t know.
I swallow him as best I can, gagging a little around his size. He makes that same rough grunting noise he did when he fucked me in his cabin, and his fingers tighten against my hair, holding me in place as I suck greedily on his cock. Running like that—being chased, thinking I might die—has left me hornier than I’ve ever felt in my fucking life. Even the salt of him, of his sweat and his precum, almost tastes sweet to me. It sends heat soaring between my legs, and I wrap my hands around his hips to give me leverage to try and draw him deeper into my mouth.
Iamthanking him. But not for keeping me alive. For giving me the terror that’s always been missing from my previous pitiful sexual encounters.
I fuck him with my mouth, my jaw slack so spit pools around my lips and slides out to slick his thick, hot shaft. He grunts,tightening his fingers in my hair, adding a touch of pain that makes me moan.
When it becomes too difficult for me to breathe around his cock, I release him and lick his balls, taut against his body. I draw one into my mouth and then the other, stroking his spit-drenched dick the entire time. My body buzzes with need.
Theo’s grunts grow louder. He rocks his hips so his cock slaps wetly against my cheek, and I can’t stand it anymore. I slide my free hand down and stroke my pussy over my shorts. It’s infuriating, all that fabric. It’s not my hand that I want between my legs.
“Fuck me,” I whisper against his cock, licking it between each word. “Please, Theo. I need you to fuck me?—”
He yanks me by the hair and throws me onto my back. I land with a splash in the soft, lapping waters of Hanging Lake, mud squelching between my thighs. Theo drops down between my legs and yanks my shorts off like he did before, although this time, thankfully, he doesn’t shred my panties, just pulls them off in one smooth motion. I hike my hips up, trying to keep my cunt clear of the mud. Not that I need to. Theo hooks his arms into my legs and bends me in half, right before he latches his mouth to my pussy.
