“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?"
I nip at his neck again, delighting in the sound of his control slipping and a moan slipping free. It’s the sexiest sound I've ever heard, and I'm nearly feral with the need to bring it out of him again.
The light from my front porch is just piercing through the trees when he gives in, slamming me against a tree trunk, my bare back scraping against the rough bark. His jeans are undone in record time, his cock bursting free from the confines and driving up inside me before I can process it.
I scream from the intrusion, his cock stretching me so suddenly that all I can feel is fire. But he doesn’t relent, fucking me against the tree until I’m clamping down on him, an orgasm tearing through me that nearly causes permanent eye damage from how hard they roll.
He spills inside of me on a hoarse shout, ramming me so deeply into the tree, I swear there will be an imprint of my ass.
I’m sure the squirrels will find that fascinating.
Pulling out of me, he harshly tears me away from the tree and speed walks the rest of the way back. A visceral energy radiates off him, and I can’t tell if it’s full of anger or desire.
My back is on fire, accompanied by the dull throb radiating between my legs. It’s the sweetest agony I’ve ever felt.
In the duration of the trek back to my house, my brain has come back to Earth, and yet nothing has changed.
That unsettles me more than anything.
The fact that I’m no longer delirious from fear or bliss, and still, my desire and need for this man hasn’t lessened in the slightest. If anything, it’s only grown with the weight of anticipation hanging over my head.
The small light hanging over my door is like a beacon. As if the house will make me feel any safer from the man holding me in his arms.
Instead of beelining towards the door as I expected, he heads for my car. Despite the back of my SUV being spacey, Zade is no small man, and being cramped in a small space with him suddenly feels intimidating.
If I change my mind, it’ll be impossible to get away from him.
“Why not the house?”
“I’m not waiting any longer,” he answers tightly.
His tone is serious, and if it wasn’t for his still-hard dick currently trying to play tag with my stomach, I’d think he was mad at me.
Opening the back door, the barbarian nearly tosses me in, barely giving me enough time to scoot away before he's following in after me, slamming the door behind him.
The rain patters loudly against the car. It’s a sound many sleep apps have tried to replicate, but nothing can ever come close to imitating the sound of Seattle rain.