My eyes narrowed. The world appeared to be quiet, but…. “I know you’re out there.”
Something rustled to my left, and I held my breath waiting for that cold stare to emerge. But it didn’t. Nothing moved except the wind. Where the hell was he?
I didn’t like this. It was too quiet. Too still. I should be able to hear birds chirping or some other animals, yet there was nothing. Or my pulse was overpowering everything else. Eerie didn’t even begin to cover it. Goosebumps broke out across my skin as my palms grew sweaty. The longer I stood there, the more my nerves woke up.
Was this how people in horror movies felt right before the monster jumped out? They never fared well. Why would I think I would be any different? Yet here I was, preparing to take on the devil with a butt plug.
Something snapped behind me.
Fuck this.
I took off. Just in time, too, because half a second later, I heard a voice call out, “Run, Little Bird.”
And I did just that. As I moved through the forest, I suddenly understood why Shelby liked running track so much. This feeling was freeing, exhilarating, utterly terrifying, and one hundred percent addictive.
That was until something rushed out and jumped on me.
I barely had time to scream before I was knocked down, tumbling face-first into the dirt. We landed with a heavy thud that momentarily stole my breath. I didn’t have to look behind me to know what had happened. Preston caught me. Was it wrong that my body recognized the weight pressing in on me?
“Tip number one, Little Bird, you shouldn’t kick someone in the balls. You might just piss them off.”
Good. He should be pissed off. I would’ve jabbed my knee in his nuts again. Instead, I coughed and fought for air while Preston flattened his palm between my shoulder blades and grabbed the waistband of my pants with his other hand.
“Or,” He bent over me, bringing his mouth to the edge of my ear, and growled, “You’ll turn them on.”
My pants were ripped down my legs to my knees. My senses came back when I heard the jangle of a belt. That wasn’t a good thing. My mind told me to get away, but my body warmed the instant his hand slipped between my thighs. Preston shoved two fingers inside me, and I couldn’t stop the moan.
“You’re wet, Marnie. You like this shit, don’t you?”
I licked the dirt off my lips and hissed, “Never.”
I didn’t enjoy this. I hated everything about it—how good he made me feel, the tingling sensation that coursed through my veins, but mostly, I hated how my body purred for more. Every sense heightened—the grimy taste of the earth on my face, the breeze cooling my exposed flesh, and the warm feeling of the man behind me.
Even Preston’s tsk rolled through me. “Hear that?”
I heard it. The squelching sound my body made as his fingers pumped into my pussy was mortifying. I should be fighting it, not melting into his touch. Yet, there I was, lying in the dirt, moaning like a cat in heat.
“This is wrong.” But felt so right.
Every nerve I had lit up. Preston’s fingers felt so good, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted more, and despite how much I wanted to kill him, I groaned and ground my hips back.
“Why? Because it makes you a slut.” He pulled his hand away, and I momentarily whined at the loss. Then something bigger pressed against my opening.
“Or is it because it makes you my slut,” Preston growled and thrust hard, burying his entire length inside me.
I screamed at the sudden stretch. It was too much, too fast. Not that Preston cared. He didn’t even slow down. He fucked me with so much force that my body was pushed across the ground. And I loved every minute of it. Sticks and dried leaves pricked my skin while his hard cock, and the little balls on the end of his piercings rubbed against my inner walls.
The wave of pleasure threatening to crash into me seemed unstoppable. I tried to hold it back. My teeth gritted as I dug my nails into the earth and refused to let desire take over. It worked at first. Then I felt the cool metal touch my back, followed by a sharp sting that traveled down my spine.
There was no stopping it after that. That wave burst forth with the power of an atomic bomb. An inhuman sound erupted from my chest as my muscles seized. I barely felt the trickle of blood, but the tongue that laved over it broke through my haze.
“So fucking sweet,” Preston groaned, then cut me again, and again, and again.
A murderer was getting off on slicing me, and he wasn’t the only one. Every sting brought on by his knife dragged out my orgasm. Just when I thought he was done, Preston grabbed my neck and pulled me back against him.
The next thing I knew, his lips were on mine.
He smelled like smoke and tasted like whiskey, but there was something about the coppery tinge that laced his tongue. It did something to me. Something that made me grind my hips and fuck him back. I couldn’t have stopped if I wanted to. I was gone, lost to the euphoria. The only thing that pulled me back were the words he growled in my ear.
