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Like we’re meant for each other.

“Now you can come for me,” he says in a dark, forceful voice, his hands digging into my hips, guiding me back on his cock. “Are you going to do that for me, Penelope?”

Hearing my name sends electricity straight through my belly.

“Say it again,” I gasp, clenching my cunt down around his cock. “My name.”

He chuckles a little, then shoves me down until I’m on my belly, and he’s completely in control, his cock sliding in and out of my hot, drenched pussy until all I can feel is pleasure.

“You like that, Penelope?” he purrs. “My cock in your cunt? I know you’re going to come.”

I can’t speak. I can only tremble and clench and pant out fast, desperate breaths that blow across the wet, dirty ground. Everything beneath me is cold and dead, but above me is Victor, as hot as spilled blood.

And that’s what my orgasm feels like, too. Like blood pouring out of a knife wound—thick, molten heat that floods up from my cunt and into my belly. I scream as it slams through me, my body rocking and clenching against Victor’s firm, steady thrusts. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down at all. His cock keeps striking up against my G-spot so that one orgasm bleeds into another, a string of explosions. My vision blurs; there’s a damp heat on my face. Tears. He feels so good that I’m weeping.

And then, just when I think I can’t stand another second of pleasure, just when I think it might literally kill me, Victor slides out of my cunt. I still whimper at the aching emptiness, even if part of me is relieved to be alive.

He rolls me onto my back, and I gaze up at him, my breath tight in my lungs. His cock is rock hard and huge and gleaming, but it’s his face that draws my attention upward. His faint, predatory eyeshine. His soft, shy smile.

“I felt that, too,” he murmurs, tracing his thumb along my jawline. Then he lifts my legs and slides back inside me, making me moan with a contentedness I wasn’t sure I’d ever find. This time, Victor fucks me slowly, his hips rolling languorously against mine, and he bends over and kisses me on the mouth

Somehow, he makes it feel romantic, being fucked on top of all this autumn rot. I’ve never liked slow, sweet, romantic sex, not really. But with Victor, I don’t mind. It won’t make me come, but it feels good, and I don’t think my body can handle another orgasm.

“I’m going to come inside you,” he murmurs between kisses. “Gonna put a Hunter baby in your belly. Do you want that?”

No, my mind says, but my body responds to his words with a sudden flare of heat.

“You’re not getting me pregnant,” I say feebly. “I’ve got an IUD.”

Victor laughs. “It’s fun to pretend, though, isn’t it?” He kisses me harder, and he’s right: it is fun to pretend. To imagine carrying a part of him inside me.

“I want to see you pregnant with a little murderer,” he pants against my neck. “Our own little monster.”

I moan softly at his words, hooking my legs around his hips to pull him deeper inside me. He quickens his strokes.

“You’re mine,” he gasps, striking deep inside me. “And I’m going to fill you with a perfect ba⁠—”

He doesn’t get the rest of it out. His hips jerk and shudder and then still, and for a moment, I think I can feel him pulsing inside me, flooding me with his cum. When he slumps down on me, I make no move to push him off. I don’t want to. It feels good, being crushed by his weight, his woodsy alpine scent wrapping around me. Instead, I just settle back into the leaves, my fingers tangled up in his hair, as he dusts my cheek with soft, gentle kisses.

In this moment, I can believe him. That I am his.

Only his.

27

VICTOR

Iwrap my coat around Penelope’s shoulders, tugging it closed to try to keep her warm. She’s a mess: leaves tangled in her hair, dirt smeared across her sweater. At least it’s long enough to cover the split I left in her leggings.

She plops down on a big stone next to the creek, holding onto my coat, her hair falling a little into her eyes. The light from the phone shines over half her body, illuminating her skin with its harsh, Arctic glow. The rest of her is hidden in the darkness, like I am.

“Thank you,” she says softly, lifting her gaze toward me. “For coming to find me out here. I—it would have been a long hike into town.”

“Yeah, I know. That’s why I did it.” I crouch down beside her, put one tentative hand on her knee. When she doesn’t push me away, I rub at it, feeling the warmth. She might have come for me, might have begged for more when I was inside her. But I’m not so stupid that I don’t realize fucking is different from real life.

For a minute, we just sit there in the cold, gusting wind. I don’t sense the gods the way I did earlier, but I suspect they’re still there anyway. Watching us.

“Now what?” Penelope asks, breaking the silence.