And for some reason I’m more worried about coming home to Dacre with a black eye than being beat up. If he sees me like that I have a feeling he wouldn’t spare a single man crossing his path, innocent or not innocent.
The chill’s getting worse and worse and I’m starting to wonder if this was just some trick someone played to mess with me when I see a dark figure between the trees. My breath hitches in my throat and I whimper,
“I got the money. They’re in my bag.”
The figure remains motionless and I wonder whether to just toss him the bag and escape on Guinevere when he takes a step closer. Something about the way he moves is familiar and the hair on my nape rises.
I can’t see the figure’s eyes but somehow I still feel them piercing into mine and he steps out from the mist and shadows and I gasp in shock.
“You!” I breathe and Dacre looks down on me. “B...but...”
I’m confused and a slow smile crosses Dacre’s face.
“Don’t get angry, princess,” he whispers. “I did what I had to. You never would have let me anywhere near you if I hadn’t blackmailed you.”
Croaking something incoherent, I shake my head, still struggling to wrap my mind around this. “You read my diary,” I pant and the realization hits me like a sucker punch. Dacre knows everything, every little dirty thought I’ve had about him and I put my palms up on his chest to steady myself.
“You had no right to do that,” I moan. “That was so mean of you.”
He chuckles, stroking the side of my face and his hands are always so careful when touching me. “There’s no line I wouldn’t cross when it comes to us. I had to have you, Greta.” His eyes flash. “I still have to have you.”
A surprised sound pops from my mouth when his hands go to take off my clothes and he curses, “Fuck, next time you’re keeping those riding boots but for now we’ll just leave the cape on.”
Moaning, while he undresses me, I lean my head against his shoulder and he’s so hard for me when I cup him that I purr, “Does my stepbrother have a fetish for Red Riding Hood?”
Dacre’s eyes flash and he clasps my chin. “I got a fetish for you, princess,” he groans, thrusting into my palm. “Fuck, your tits are so milky they’re practically self-reflective in the dark.” I laugh but he shuts me up by yanking a nipple into his mouth and sucks like he’s trying to squeeze all my milkshake out of me.
“Yes!” I cry, tugging at his hair until I fear I’m hurting him but he doesn’t seem to care, lost in pleasure and sensation. The fog wraps around us like a third lover and Dacre pulls me down on the grass. I’m so lost in him, and in the back of my head a thought pops. This is just like the reoccurring fantasy in my diary.
The one where I’m the princess and Dacre the dangerous stranger who ravages me in a meadow. I whimper at both how evil and creative he is. With a deep, quick stroke he pushes inside of me and I gasp.
He just t...took me and my body clutches around him like a desperate mistress. With a groan he lowers his face to tug and play with my breasts, his fingers strumming my clit until all the manipulation with my nerves make me scream.
His energy’s animalistic, making my core hurt. I need him so much it almost cuts me in two. I’m so turned on by his predatory hunger that I’, just as wild as he is. I whimper, my cheek pressing against the grass while Dacre pounds into me from behind. The thrusts are ferocious and he brings out another side of me.
I’m raw when I’m with Dacre. Passionate and I don’t care if I break a nail as long as he keeps ramming me.
“Love having stepbrother inside of you?” Dacre growls and my jaw slacks.
“Y...yes,” I pant and I do love it. “Your fucking feels so good.” My cheeks heat because it’s the first time I’ve ever used that word out loud but Dacre groans, more than enjoying my boldness, going deeper and I’m so pinned on him that I’m completely helpless.
I scream at him to fuck me harder, needing him to soak me and I crave the onslaught. This brave new side of me pumps Dacre up until he wrenches me up and down on his shaft like a maniac and I bounce like a firecracker. He hammers me, his thickness so consuming that my thighs tremble, arms aching and I’m barely able to keep myself up.
“I love you.” I whine, “please, I love you so much. Just keep g...going...”
“Love you too, princess,” Dacre moans. “You’re my good girl. My special girl.” He twists his hips, hitting an angle I never knew he could hit and I unravel. My knees buck and I moan with abandon when he yanks at my hair and pulls my head back until our eyes meet.
“Want to look at you when you come,” he grits, his eyes boring into mine and he bellows when he shoots his come into my core and I squeeze, making sure to take every little drop and then we collapse.
Dacre breathes like a brute on top of me and I wrap my arms around him, carefully tracing the ink on the back of his shoulders. It’s written in runes and I ask what it says.
“Spells your name,” he murmurs. “I’m yours, baby. Just as much as you’re mine.”
****
I don’t know what time it is but the sun’s about to rise when we drop off Guinevere at the stables and walk back home. My face heats when Dacre pulls a leaf out of my hair. He chuckles, groping for my butt and pulling me in for a kiss but I jump out of the way.
He frowns in surprise and I give him a quick smile because I don’t want him to feel rejected. Dacre means the world to me but we’re not in that park meadow anymore, surrounded by the dark where everything forbidden is allowed to exist.