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“No.” The lie sounds like a question. Shane’s eyes flash, pure predator.
Before I can react, before I can breathe, he’s pressing off me. Like last night, I’m ready to scream in frustration at the loss. Unlike last night, Shane’s hands return almost immediately. He flips me in a single smooth movement, ripping my leggings down. A rough finger teases my entrance. Then he plunges it inside me, pumping in and out lewdly. The sound of how wet I am makes my face burn. I’m glad I’m on my stomach. I’m not sure I could meet his eyes right now.
“Sure you aren’t wet?” there’s the slightest bit of amusement in his voice.
I don’t get to respond. Pain explodes across my ass, the crack of palm on flesh piercing the stillness of the woods.
My gasp is choked. I try to crawl forward, away from the agony. Fisting the back of my shirt, he holds me in place before delivering another excruciating spank. I’m swallowing my yelp when he speaks again.
“Don’t you ever lie to me,“ his reprimand is dominating, primal. I can’t reconcile it with the polite, awkward lawyer who enjoys cat puns. It doesn’t compute.
His breath hits me, then searing, wet heat engulfs my sex, and the only pussy I care about is the one between my legs. Hands press my thighs wider, fabric rips as my leggings tear. My hips are tugged up. He runs his tongue along me, gentle, savoring strokes that make it hard to think.
Life or death.
Crawling away from his mouth feels like dying. He swears under his breath. Then his hands are underneath me. As he tugs me back, he lifts my hips higher and holds them, giving himself better access to my pussy. Scorching breath hits my begging flesh. The thought of moving away makes me want to weep. Shane takes a long, lingering lick and then another. This feast isn’t for my benefit. It’s all for him. The way his hands knead my thighs, fingers tightening each time he swirls his tongue inside me gives him away. So does the way he presses hot, open-mouthed kisses between my legs as if he’s making out with my pussy. I’m not sure he means to make contented sounds while he enjoys me, but he does. It doesn’t matter if he’s not doing it for me. I’m melting anyway, dissolving into a puddle of desperation. I don’t know how long it takes me to come to my senses.
He didn’t say it.
I surge forward, ripping at the grass as I try to pull myself away. My leggings are tangled around my ankles, forcing me to crawl. He must be as dazed as I feel because I make it a few feet before he’s on me again. The spell is broken. Three hard spanks in rapid succession make me shriek into the ground. I’m catching my breath when I hear the sound of fabric moving, a zipper being tugged down.
Run.
I don’t even get to try. My thighs are shoved apart again, his legs brushing mine.
“Yield,” the command comes as he thrusts his cock into me.
I knew it was coming, but the force makes me cry out. Shane’s big. I don’t know how big because I haven’t seen his cock, but there’s a sharp sting as my body yields to his. The depth, the stretch, and the suddenness of the breach chill me, sending lightning bolts through my limbs. He’s too thick, too hard, and there’s too much power behind each thrust. I’m facedown, hands clawing the earth as my body tries to adjust. Suddenly, I’m wondering if I should have had a gentler sexual encounter with someone post-divorce to prepare for this. Maybe going from a decade of monogamy to being railed by a near stranger in the woods is too drastic a change for my body.
Margot’s warning returns. He’s different in the woods.
She’s right.
He’s terrifying.
Chapter Seven
Claire
My brain feels like it’s being split in two. So does my pussy, but that discomfort is pushed aside to deal with the screaming voice inside me saying I cannot do this.
It’s a familiar voice. The same one I heard when I found the texts in Keith’s phone. Shrieking and shrill, trying to convince me that my life was over. Insisting I wouldn’t survive the next minute, that I was going to die of a broken heart in our bedroom, holding the damned phone.
I didn’t die. I made it through the next minute and every single one since.
Fuck the little voice.
It was wrong then. It’s wrong now. This may be my first time with Shane, but it isn’t my first time doing this. I know what I’m doing. I know I like this, love this. He’s not the only one who’s different in the woods.
I’m different.
Braver.
Wilder.
Hungrier.
So hungry. The only word for what’s coiling up inside me is craving. A switch in my brain flips. There’s no room for fear anymore, not when I focus on how he’s filling me. I was wrong. His cock doesn’t hurt. It isn’t too much. It’s perfection, sinking into my body like it was made for me.
