And then he bites me. He holds me pliant with his teeth at my inner shoulder as he exposes my ass.
I feel so out of control, my body tense and stiff as he overpowers me in every way. The rasping sound of his zipper has my heart spiking. My knees hit the dirt where he forces them apart with a booted foot. Heat and man and musk surround me as he falls to his knees, his thighs rub against the backs of mine as he notches his cock at my entrance.
I can’t fight his solid hold. I give in. Relent.
With a powerful thrust, he splits me open. Soreness registers, overridden by blind lust. By want. I urge him on, panting and moaning in encouragement as he plows my ass, my cheek abraded by the bark as I brace myself against the trunk and hold on for dear life. He’s relentless and dominant. His hand doesn’t leave my throat, pinning me between the tree and his chest as he ravages me, overcome with his need to consume.
So I let him. I fall into it, surrendering to his control, a deep, persistent growl boiling up from his broad chest.
Yes, my body sings, climbing ever higher.
Restrained, it’s hard to move with him, but the danger of it, the inability to take a deep breath without feeling his grip tighten around my windpipe leaves me drunk on desire. He bites down on my shoulder again, subduing me as a warm, possessive hand covers my breast. He massages me there, my nipple poking through the material of my clothes. And then his hand drops lower, circling my clit with assured fingers.
Tonight has felt like an out-of-body experience, and the darkness is disorientating. All I know is that my orgasm is abrupt and punishing, the aftershocks persistent as he drags me over and over his thick, long cock. And then he’s swelling, throbbing, an obscene roar of pure, masculine pleasure dissecting the night.
Our heavy breaths fog the air as he pulls out. Behind me, a zipper sounds, then the gentle rustle of clothes.
Leaning my chest against the tree, I suck in lungfuls of air. A palm caresses my hair in goodbye, in care or comfort maybe, before I hear him leave.
Minutes pass. I’m not sure of the precise number, but I’m guessing at least five. I’m numb to the bone, shivering so hard my teeth chatter. Running a hand over my leaf-strewn hair, I pick out what parts of the forest I can.
It’s hard to place my emotions. I’m euphoric, but I’m also feeling bruised, and I don’t mean physically. Emotionally, the primal play has taken more from me than I expected. But it’s exceeded expectations in all the best ways too. And I know Future Winter would tell Present Winter:Look, it’s all good. You did something you’ve always wanted to do. Don’t sweat it.And she’d probably tell me we reenact tonight several times in the coming months.
Did they enjoy it too? I hope so. It sounded like they did. I think they liked chasing me, the tension rippling between my capturer and me real. And they felt so big as they surged inside me, their cocks intimidating. I hope my fighting spirit was a turn-on. That pretending it was non-consensual was powerful, and my ultimate compliance thrilling.
Stalking for the clearing, I approach the cabin. Set on a slight incline, it’s as beautiful as you’d expect from a family of hoteliers with billions at their disposal. Pretty balconies, dormer windows, and landscaped grounds take my breath away, the structure impressive and handsome. I round the side of the house for the front door, three familiar figures waiting for me.
With a careful expression, Luca watches me. Reuben has a playful grin on his face. Brecken moves for me first, throwing his arms around me firmly, his weight like those comfort blankets you give to anxious pets and people. Like the others, his clothes are filthy and his hair messy. The bed-tousled look has been replaced with hunting-ravaged.
“You good?”
“Yeah,” I confirm, confident of my thoughts and emotions. “It was everything I hoped for.”
“You’re scratched,” he comments displeased.
“I’m okay.”
I move to Reuben, hugging him. “I loved it,” he says with a chuckle. “This place is now competing with my other favorite place—the tower.”
“Is that so?” I reply, kissing him on the cheek and reaching for Luca. He holds me confidently, closely. “Not too much?” he checks.
“It felt like I was in a suspenseful movie, but with the knowledge that what happened was premeditated in all the best ways.”
“Good. You look like you’ve been through it, so I needed to check.”
“Come on. There’s a bath waiting,” Brecken says, steering me indoors.
Dinner isa selection of pizzas courtesy of the chefs at Chateau B. Ignoring the salad—all I want right now is comfort food, we wash them down with a lot of Californian wine. In these lavish, comfortable surroundings it’s a perfect Valentine’s weekend.
“Did you come here a lot while at Stanford?”
“A bit,” Luca replies, running a hand through his newly-clean hair. “There was only a year or so when we were all there together.”
“With college girls?” I ask, trying to stop the flaring jealousy.
Brecken chuckles. He’s massaging my feet, and I’m so relaxed I could easily drop off to sleep. “It’s not just me then.”
I pout. “I hate the idea of you all with other women.”