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Mathias grinned at me.
I knew what he was doing. He hadn’t appreciated me toying with him earlier, and was now doing his best to sufficiently rile me so that I wouldn’t have the self-control to do anything but take him hard and fast.
I knew, but I didn’t care. If Mat wanted to unleash that part of me, it was on his own fucking head.
“You won’t be cold in a minute,” I told him with a smile that was not intended to comfort. “Are you going to run?”
“I am.”
“I’ll catch you.”
“You always do,” said Mat, dropping his gaze to mine and holding it with glittering intensity. The words hung between us, bearing more weight than their surface-level meaning.
“And then I’m going to fuck you where you fall, Mathias,” I promised, unlatching my belt and hooking it into a loop. His eyes followed the movement hungrily. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to move to somewhere more…comfortable?”
He gave a long, low laugh that sounded like a promise of what was to come. A frisson of excitement ran through me. “Doyouhave any last words, Ren?”
There were so many things I wanted to say to him.
That I would indeed always catch him, no matter how fast he ran or far he fell.
That nothing held any meaning without him.
That he wasn’t going to make it six feet before he realised fleeing from me had been averybad idea.
As a dozen other answers ran through my mind, from the romantic to the thoughtful to the manifestly vulgar – because I was me, and that was never changing – Mat shot me a brash grin and darted from the tree. I blinked, caught by surprise.
And yet there was no way in hell I was going to let him have such a head start. Neither would I allow Mathias to win by guile when I had far more tricks and far fewer scruples about using them.
So I forced myself not to give chase despite every ounce of my being rebelling at the restraint, instead staggering on the spot and letting out a pained, gasping noise. Mathias stopped mid-stride, his head swivelling around with a look of utter concern etched across his face and his hand already coming up to reach for me.
I delivered his earlier cocky smirk back to him…and pounced.
“Shit,” he hissed, dancing sideways and evading my grasping fingers by a hair’s breadth. He twisted away and began to run, yet I was close on his heels now and he knew it.
My heartbeat pounded in my ears as my boots slammed into the snow after his, the cold night air and the primal thrill of all this making me feel fuckingalive. He made it a dozen feet, maybe two, but I knew I had him.
I forced myself to move faster, eating up the final inches between us.
Mathias swore as I tackled him to the ground, that gorgeous accent of his made thick with fear and exhilaration. Taking advantage of my position on top of him, I quickly yanked his arms behind his back before he could push me off. He struggled to free himself from my weight without them, his face pressed into the snow and his shoulders straining desperately.
Planting a knee in the small of his back to keep him down, I tightened the loop of my belt around his wrists. Yet unlike the other times we’d played with restraints, Mat didn’t simply let me tie him up. He fought me with his every breath, resisting my efforts with a fierceness that made me hard just feeling him moving beneath me, knowing he wouldn’t yield until I was inside him.
It seemed he was liking this game of ours as much as I was, for when he finally peeled his face from the snow and glared over his shoulder to spit more curses at me, I found his eyes bright with excitement and his lips curved upwards into a broad smile that the normally uptight bastard was either failing or not bothering to hide.
I reached around him to undo his own belt and haul his trousers down to his knees before doing the same to myself, enjoying Mathias fighting back with everything he had. My wildcat was fully unleashed at last, clawing and struggling and yet helpless beneath me.
“That’s fucking cold, asshole!” he gasped as the bare skin of his hips and thighs met the snow. I could have told him that I didn’t expect either of us to last long enough for it to become a problem, but I enjoyed watching his suffering far too much to ease it.
“Keep mewling,” I murmured, sitting on his legs and pressing two fingers to where I intended to invade his gorgeous body. “I love your little whimpers.”
“I don’t whimper,” Mathias said scornfully. I slid my fingers inside him to prove he was once again a Dios-damned liar, rapidly inhaling as I found him still slick and ready from my torment earlier. He bucked and kicked, but I had him pinned and my beautiful northerner wasn’t going any-fucking-where.
I knew that, he knew that, and still he writhed, giving me everything I wanted in the form of his resistance. I absolutely adored that he was letting me go all out like this, granting me the thrilling pleasure of holding power over another as I fought to make him mine. His cursing devolved into his native tongue as it always did when he lost control.
“That’s it, Nat,” I whispered into his ear as I braced myself against him, using my weight to keep him trapped. “Spread those pretty legs for me.”
I didn’t give him time to either answer or prepare as I forced my way through the ring of muscles that protested every inch of my cock, making him gasp and cry out beneath me. I wanted him to feel it, to suffer the ache of discomfort and wear the pain I delivered to him.
