My thighs tighten, wondering how long he’s been following me. My earbuds are still blaring in my ears, and I reach up to take them out in case he’s talking to me. He’s wearing a mask—a white one—so I’m unable to see his face, but something about him seems familiar.
He takes a step toward me, and I take one back. He stops, and I swallow the knot that forms in my throat while my nipples harden.
No. No. No.
Not again.
I can feel his eyes on my legs. I decided to run in shorts this morning. My pulse is racing, and my breathing picks up, making my tits bounce in my sports bra.
“I’ve been watching you.” My pussy throbs at his confession, and tears sting my eyes. Even his voice sounds familiar. Where have I heard it before? “You run here every day.” He tilts his masked head to the side.
“Please …” I whimper, placing my hands up at him. “I just want to finish my run,” I say, slowly taking a step back as my body heat rises at the thought of us being out here all alone.
“Well”—he chuckles behind his mask—“I don’t know if you’ll finish, but I will.” The man charges for me.
I spin around to run, but he barrels into my back, knocking me to the ground. I try fighting him, but he’s on my back. He grabs my hands and wraps something rough around my wrists, securing them behind me, and I feel wetness pool between my legs.
God, no.
He grabs my hair and yanks me to my feet, pulling me off the trail. Then he’s shoving me deeper into the woods. I trip and fall down onto the ground. Twigs and branches dig into my bare legs. I go to get up, but his fist hits my back, knocking me down again. “Stay down, bitch!” he orders, pushing my face to the rough ground.
Tears run down my face as he rips my shorts down my legs along with my underwear. Then he’s shoving my legs apart. I cry out when his hand touches my pussy.
“Ahh, you’re wet,” he says in surprise.
I sob, my body shaking.
“You like being taken, don’t you, you little slut.” He grips my hair and leans down. “Don’t worry, looks like you’ll get to finish after all.”
I sit straight up, gasping for air in the darkness. Reaching over, I knock a few things to the floor to find a light. When I press a button, the room lights up, and I see I’m at home in my apartment, naked in my bed. Alone.
“Not again.” I breathe. Leaning forward, I drop my face in my hands and try to calm my breathing. I look at my cell, and it says it’s a little after three in the morning. How did I get home? The club … drinking with Sarah … Ryat. He showed up. Must have brought me home and dropped me off.
Lying down on my back, I stare up at the ceiling. My mouth is dry and tastes like lingering alcohol. Throwing off my covers, I get out of bed on shaky legs and open my bedroom door. Stepping out, I come to a stop when I see Ryat sitting on my couch, his cell in his hands and staring straight at me.
“Ryat?” I squeal, taking a step back. “You, uh… what are you doing here?” I stumble over my words, still trying to catch my breath.
His eyes drop to my hard nipples, and I cross my arms over my chest. They lower to my legs, and I cross them as well, leaning up against the doorframe to my bedroom for support. “What were you doing?” he counters, arching a brow.
“Nothing.” I shrug carelessly, but his eyes run up and over my body, and I can tell by the look in them, he knows I’m full of shit. I bite my lip to keep from whimpering. Not again. This can’t be happening again.
“You were doing something.” He stands, pocketing his phone, and walks over to me.
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Sleeping.” Not a total lie. I literally just woke up like this.
Coming to a stop in front of me, he orders, “Open my legs.”
If I know anything about Ryat, it’s that he’ll get what he wants. No matter what. I push off the wall and uncross my shaking legs for him as humiliation washes over me.
RYAT
SHE PRACTICALLY RAN out of her room, breathing heavily, nipples hard, legs shaking. She looked like she just got herself off. And she was surprised to see I was still here. She knows she’s not allowed to do that.
Dropping her head, she closes her eyes and takes in a deep breath. She looks almost ashamed. I place my hand on the inside of her thigh. She flinches but doesn’t pull away. I run my hand up between her legs and cup her pussy, sliding my middle finger between her lips. She’s fucking soaked. “Did you touch yourself?” I ask. I’d actually love to watch her get herself off.