Page 228 of Primal

I go rigid, fury and something far less righteous zipping down my spine.

“You let him touch you,” he grits out between punishing strides, each step jostling me against his bare, blood-warm back. “You moaned for him.”

Fuck, is this for real? Or just another scene to keep me wet and confused?

“Put me down, you maniac. Put. Me. Down!”

One second, I’m bouncing over his shoulder like a kidnapped damsel. The next—I’m on my feet, hauled upright by the collar of my hoodie, my back slammed against a tree. Bark bites into my spine.

“Don’t pretend you’re not loving every second of this,” he rasps, inches from my face, breathing hard behind the mask. “But go ahead, scream all you want.”

And I do—my brain on autopilot, eyes closed, lungs filling to capacity, and—

kriiikkk.

What. The. Hell.

Dollar-Store—he just fucking duct-taped my mouth.

“Shhh,” he murmurs. “Take a breath. Bet you’re gonna need it.”

I claw at the tape, but of course it won’t budge.

I thrash, slap at him.

He pins me face-first to the tree, grabs my wrists, and yanks them behind my back. Then comes the tape.

I scream—indignant, muffled, a full-throated pterodactyl.

smack. His palm lands on my bare ass again.

My hiss sticks to the duct tape. My mouth goes liquid. My nipples are so stiff they ache, and that quiver right through my pussy? Damn. If this is what happens when I fight back—

I. Am. Done.

“Stay. Still,” Dollar-Store growls.

Like hell I will.

I squirm as he wedges his hand between my thighs.

His fingers glide over me—pushing just so.

My hips stutter. My knees betray me.

I rake my teeth against the tape, reveling in the rough grit. Hating the way my pussy pulses.

My spine arches as his thumb zeroes in on my clit.

He drags one finger over me, savoring, then a second—testing, stroking—pinpointing every spot that makes me twitch or gasp.

Three fingers slip inside. I buck, and Dollar-Store doesn’t miss a beat.

“Slut.” He curls them. “Behave, and I’ll let you come.”

A whimper escapes—muffled, soaked in heat.

“You haven’t begged yet,” he murmurs, pumping in and out. “Maybe you’re not gagging for it, hmm?”