Page 19 of Snatched By the Scarecrow

“You will take everything I give you,” he reminds me, in a low warning.

“Yes, Silas.”

In another move I didn’t see coming, he lifts me up, resting me on his shoulders so my legs drape over his back. His hands find the globes of my ass and he digs into the flesh, putting his mouth on me once more.

He devours me like a man who has never eaten a day in his life, which is probably the case.

Silas licks around my clit, sucking each labia before sealing his lips over me again. I buck up into his face for more and he doesn’t seem to mind. Silas grips my ass harder, so he can bury his face completely in my pussy.

“Yes!” I scream. “I’m going to come. Please!”

Silas doesn’t listen. He denies me my pleasure and my body protests in pain, every nerve ending screaming out to fall into completion, like I’ve been trying to do all day.

Silas drops my legs to the ground, and a new feeling takes the place of his mouth. It’s cool and sharp. I look down to find him looking up at me, and I have no doubt he’s observing every reaction on my face.

“Silas,” I whimper. “What—”

I’m cut off by a bite of pain on my inner thigh. He hasn’t cut the skin, but there’s a red mark where he’s scratched me with what looks like a long tine of a pitchfork.

“You like that, eager one?”

I nod my head. “More.”

I don’t know what I’m asking for, but Silas knows what I need. He takes the sharp metal and presses it to my skin right under the line from before. This time it pierces my skin, and my eyes roll back into my head. My clit throbs and my inner walls clench around nothing.

“Beautiful,” I hear Silas mutter before his lips attach to my thigh. He drags his tongue along the fresh shallow cut he’s made, and when he pulls away, he releases a guttural moan that lights my body on fire.

“Please,” I whine. “Again, Silas. Please.”

He’s all too eager to give me what I want, making a second, then a third cut, lapping up my blood like it’s ambrosia for the gods. And maybe it is…

By the time he’s kissing his way up my body, I’m dizzy with desire, my head swimming and pulse pounding.

The bindings holding me to the pole are sliced away with the sharp tine, and the rush of blood back to my arms only adds to everything that I’m feeling. Silas removes the rest of my dress so that I’m completely naked, my thighs wet with my need for him.

“You’re ready,” he says simply.

I open my mouth to speak but my words are cut off by his lips. The cloth is soaked with my blood and arousal, and this is a kiss unlike anything I’ve had or probably will again.

Like everything has been with him, it’s rough yet soft. Demanding, and consuming. His tongue tangles with mine, and I get his smokiness, alongside my heady taste and the copper of my blood.

The combination of us is addicting. I give him better access to plunder every inch of me, opening my mouth wider and molding my body into his. He groans into the kiss, sucking on my tongue, and pressing me back against the cross. I feel his girth again, and lift my hips up to rub against him, needing the friction his body provides.

Silas doesn’t stop me, letting me grind on him, my nipples rubbing across the rugged fabric of his shirt. I slowly trail my hands down from his arms to his sides. It’s the same as the places I’ve already touched, human but also not. The straw and the fabric of his clothes provide a soft stiffness that no person would possess. Yet he’s warm—so warm. Like blood pumps through him.

One of my hands dares to travel to the rope around his hips, put there to give the illusion of a waistline. It’s not needed though, because he does have one. It’s tighter and trimmer than the rest of him.

“Silas,” I manage to pull myself away from his addictive kisses. “Can I?” I tug at the rope as I look upon his face.

He drops his hands down to his sides. “You won’t run.”

It’s a command, not a question.

I shake my head. “Unless you tell me to.”

His threaded smile curves and he dips his chin in permission to continue.

Anticipation thunders in my veins as I undo the knot holding the rope in place. It falls open and I pull away the burlap cloth to reveal his torso. There was a small part of me that thought his body would fall apart without the structure, but I should have known better. There are bits of straw that fall to the ground, but his body is more human that it ought to be. Like the straw has been used to sculpt out a human form.