“Was it better?” he asks, but it sounds like he already knows the answer.
I nod, not brave enough to speak my lie but too prideful to say no. For a brief moment, it feels like the world around me stills. The rain, the wind, the leaves on the trees. And then everything is speeding up, too fast for me to stop him from moving my hand and delivering another sharp slap to my pussy.
Instinctively, I try to close my legs to abate the pain, but he pins my knees back, leaning over me menacingly.
The dormant fear flares back up again as he stares down at me.
“Lie to me again,” he threatens. “My patience only stretches so far.”
I swallow the lump in my throat, my wide eyes locked on his.
“Was it better?”
It’s at this moment, my brain decides to remind me that I’m in the middle of the woods, alone, with a very dangerous man. A man who had tortured and murdered four men only three nights ago.
“No,” I whisper, eyeing him carefully. I’m tense, waiting to see what his next move will be. Zade has always been unpredictable. That feeling is nothing new.
He won't hurt you, Addie.
No, but maybe I want him to.
He releases me and stands. “Get up,” he clips.
Shock renders me frozen, but my brain catches up after a few seconds and I’m scrambling to my feet.
I’m readying to ask… I don’t even know, but before I can figure it out, he’s bending down and grabbing the back of my thighs. He lifts me up, my legs instinctively curling around his waist. My sensitive center clashes with his hard cock straining in his jeans, nestling firmly between the folds of my pussy.
A soft whimper escapes, and I’m still too shocked to move or say anything as he begins to carry me, assumingly back towards my house.
“What’s happening?” I finally manage, shuddering as every step rubs his jeans against my overstimulated clit.
“I’m going to remind you how good it feels to be mine.”
Zade’s steps are purposeful as he carries me, the silence between us strained with terrifying promises. The rain hasn’t relented, seeming only to grow heavier as time passes.
I’ve no idea how he knows where to go, and I’m both impressed and suspicious. The only reason he knows these woods so well is because he’s spent a lot of time in them. Stalking me.
Is he hiding the dead bodies in there? The question is lingering on the end of my tongue, but I let it die. I don’t want to upset the small, albeit shaky, truce we’ve seemed to reach.
His large palms cup my bare asscheeks, the tips of his fingers a mere inch from my entrance. He doesn’t explore, the teasing touch setting me aflame and flooding me with anticipation.
He’s driving me mad with desire, and it’s only fair I return the favor. If he takes me on the cold, wet ground, I’d be glad for it.
The smile that graces my lips is nothing short of evil.
My lips trace the column of his throat, brushing so softly that the touch merely feels like a whisper. His grip tightens, and my smile grows. Parting my mouth, my tongue darts out and licks a path from the base of his throat to the spot behind his ear.
A growl vibrates against my tongue, spurring me into action.
He marked me relentlessly so many months ago. Isn’t it fair I mark him, too?
I bite down on that spot, lapping and sucking at the flesh trapped between my teeth until I’m sure the skin is bruised. And then I retreat and find a new spot to mark, over and over as he gnashes his teeth, hands gripping me with bruising force.
"Addie," he growls, his voice guttural and so deep, it sounds demonic.
I trail my lips up to his ear and bite down, sucking the lobe into my mouth. And then I withdraw, gliding my teeth sharply against the flesh as it pops free.
"What's wrong?" I whisper into his ear. "Can't handle what you dish out?"