My pussy throbs.
…
Nothing happens.
Chill, Scarletta. Chill. You literally just got here. It's been like thirty seconds.
…
Still nothing.
I've got a good look at the ground now. It's literally all I can see with the one eye that's not pressed against the bench.
A little chicken bird walks past, pecking at things.
A butterfly floats by.
Time slows.
Drags.
The… what's that? Something is moving through the trees.
Oh, shit. There he is. Holy fuck. He took his mask off. He's not wearing…
He looks up.
I lift my free hand to my mouth and bite the back of it. Mygod. He's actually fucking hot. I mean, I could tell he was hot. Even under the mask. But seeing it for the?—
"There's my good little slut," he calls.
My pussy clenches just from his voice.
"I'll be right there, you naughty whore. Stay wet for me."
Oh, I'm wet all right. I'm fucking wet.
He disappears under the leaves and branches, but I can hear him climbing up. He gets here fast, like he climbs rope ladders for funsies.
And then… he's behind me.
I'm suddenlydyingfor him. For this touch. For his fingers, his hands, his cock, everything. I want all of him, right now.
His hand wraps around my throat from behind—not choking, justholding—and my entire body goes still.
Prey response. Frozen. Waiting.
His other hand slides between my legs.
I'm so wet his fingers glide through my folds without resistance. Zero friction. Just slick, humiliating evidence of how badly I want this.
"Jesus Christ," he mutters. "You're fucking soaked."
I bite down on my free hand again.
His thumb circles my clit—slow, deliberate—and I make this pathetic whimpering sound that echoes across the clearing sixty feet below us.
"Do you have any idea how beautiful you look like this?" His voice is low. Rough. "Bent over. Restrained. Waiting for me to punish you."
