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We have.
I understand him now.
I’ve seen the real man—the one cursed and plagued by his guilt and regret, who tried to end things so long ago and instead only ended up a prisoner himself to someone who should love him.
He just wants a normal, quiet life, and I want that, too.
But the version chasing me through the woods is a combination of him and The Beast—the one everyone fears—because that’s a part of him, too.
He may suppress it.
He may wish it weren’t there, but there’s no denying that a very real, very terrifying portion of him possesses the instinct and ability to do very dark, very depraved things.
I stumble over a fallen log and freeze, listening to the sound of the rain hitting the trees above and trickling through the canopy. Water runs down the side of my face, and I wait for any signs that he’s close.
By now, a minute must have passed, but it feels like I haven’t made it very far. I’m definitely not cut out for survival in this place, but I won’t have to wait for long.
Blood rushes in my ears, my heart pumping rapidly after my mad dash through the trees.
But no other sounds.
Nothing.
Just an eerily quiet forest brought on by the rain or the fact that the animals know a predator is loose.
Maybe both.
I scan around me, trying to figure out which direction to head, but before I can move, a familiar strong arm wraps around me from behind and a hard chest presses into my back.
A yelp slips from my lips, and I try to kick free from his hold.
Weston doesn’t relent, just growls deeply in my ear, tightening his arm. “Where do you think you’re going, Beauty?”
Before I can answer, he pushes me forward until my chest presses into the massive trunk of a tree in front of me. The rough bark abrates my left cheek, and I peer at him out of the corner of my eye.
He keeps his weight against me, pinning me in place, preventing me from moving. His hot breath falls on my cheek as he reaches between us, and the sound of his zipper sliding open mixes with that of the falling rain. “Remember you asked for this, Beauty.”
God, yes, I did.
My pussy throbs in anticipation, and I squeeze my thighs together to help ease the ache, waiting for him to act.
Teeth graze along the side of my neck. “Do you get off on running from me, Beauty? On the adrenaline, the fear of being caught?”
Fuck…
I wish I could say no because I can admit how fucked up I must be to actually ask for him to do this after how we first met and what happened yesterday. But just like every time he talks like that, moisture pools between my legs, and I clench for something that isn’t there yet that I want so badly.
Squirming under his chest pressed into my shoulders, I try to turn more so I can see what he’s doing, but he lifts his hand to my jaw and holds it tightly, keeping me in place.
“You stay right where you are, Beauty.” His lips hover over my cheek. “You look so beautiful out here like this.”
His jeans slide down behind me, and a large hand slips under the waistband of my yoga pants and thong and cups me between my legs.
A rumbled groan of approval vibrates through me, and he nips at my ear. “Christ, Callista. You’re so fucking warm, so fucking wet. This is for me, huh?”
I whimper and nod as he applies more pressure, pressing the heel of his palm against my pussy but not moving it.
“And what if I were a real predator out here that captured you and had you pinned and at its mercy? What would you do?”
