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He lets go and twists my neck back. “Is this the only way to make you behave?” Then he licks my face, tasting me, lapping up every bit that he slathered over me.

I smile. “Screw you.”

His hands drop to my hips, yanking the back of my pants and underwear halfway down my ass. Then I feel it, his hot skin against mine as his cock slides into the pants, tucked tight inside the waistband. His stubbled cheek rubs against mine, then his lips, and they quirk into a smile. “Ready for me, my little Never?”

I push back into him with an impatient moan. “You take fucking forever. You’d better last just as long.”

“Down.” He kisses my temple, then his hand glides up my body to the back of my head. A sharp push bends me at the waist until my cheek smacks the stump. He’s completely feral now, no sign of his gentle side left. And I don’t miss it, even as I taste blood in my mouth, even as phantom fingers roam along my neck and back, his dark aura in full effect. I used to want to run, now I want nothing more than to stay here, with him.

One hand holding my head down with a fistful of hair, he tugs my pants lower with his other hand, exposing me to the cold night air. My knees grind into the ice cold dirt, my arms stretched down my back and meeting at my cuffed wrists. He pulls my hips back, and the head of his cock rubs against me, slick and hot.

He slides up and down my slippery soaked core, smacking my clit, teasing my entrance, then presses himself against my ass. Feeling his cock grind against me is enough to make me afraid of where else he might put it, and I pull my hips away. He hauls me back against him, spreading his fingers on either side of my ass where his cock is waiting.

“All mine,” he whispers, then draws back with a deep groan. “I want to see every face you make while I fuck you.” He lifts me up, turns me around, and like a trophy on display, he sits me on the stump, surrounded by the rock drums.

It’s instant, not a split second passing. He holds my face and kisses my lips, his tongue slipping inside, andthe passion—his frantic breaths, his needy touch, the way he gets as close as he possibly can. His hands ravish every inch of me, smoothing over my back, tracing the curves of my sides, thumbing my hard nipples through my shirt.

I need my hands on him, to feel his skin under my fingertips. I lean back, catching my first look at his cock, standing tall and so damn thick and hard that my stomach clenches and flutters.

“Take off the cuffs.”

Terror captures the black and brown of his eyes, and he grabs my arms. “I’m not letting you get away from me again.”

“My hands then. Let me feel you.”

He grips my thighs tight, breathless and panicked, closes his eyes and reopens them with renewed desire. “Fuck it.”

Still kneeling before me, he reaches into his pocket, pulls out a stone and frees my hands. The cuffs fall to the ground. The stonefollows. I roll my wrists and reach for him, pulling him close and pinning his thighs between my knees. His eyes go straight to mine—a moment of hesitation for both of us. Face-to-face like this, my hands on him, it’s another story. I search his eyes for an answer that only I have. Do I really want to let this man take me?

Then the moment ends as fast as it began, and I have my answer. I wrap my arms around him, claiming him for myself, but it’s not enough. Not enough answers, not enough escape. I need more. Skin. Muscle. Contact. I pull his shirt over his head, past his molded arms, and toss it aside. Fuck, his chest is gorgeous, scarred and sculpted, scratched and bruised. A recent wound mars his belly. I place my hands on him, and everything intensifies—the urgency, the heat, the need, the speed with which he moves the rocks, making room for the coming collision of our bodies. He takes the last rock, turns and leans into the toss—and I see it.

And it’s not the first time.

My heart flip-flops, my hands falter, and I suck in a long breath.Thisman. I slide forward off the stump, my knees touching his, and I rub my palms up his bare chest. My lips land below his collarbone, as high as I can get on his tall frame. And I kiss down, flicking my tongue over his nipple, and down again, scraping my teeth over his ribs, and down, sucking and licking the pack of solid muscles covering his abdomen. I move lower, kissing down that trail of hair below his belly button, bending my body as I go and lowering his boxers and pants to his knees.

He groans in anticipation, his hands finding my head, his fingers lacing through my hair. I reach to my side and pick up the discarded cuffs. He freezes, holding my head in place as I move the cuff to his wrist.

“You’re misbehaving…”

“Do you trust me?”

He smiles down at me, a wretchedly beautiful, mind-melting smile.“Never.”

“Good.” I snap the metal over his wrist and pull down on the other hanging cuff. He responds with a low, sexy laugh, then lets go of my hair with the cuffed hand and allows me to lower him until he’s sitting on his ankles, his knees spread before me, giving me all the access I need. My other hand moves to his balls, fondling, rolling, my fingers grazing that sensitive spot behind them. His cock twitches, taunting me.

“A taste for a taste. I believe I owe you,” I say.

An incoherent response slurs past his lips. I lower myself over him, spilling hot breath onto his pink tip. The fingers of his free hand tighten in my hair, and a fat white drop comes out. I look up at him, and he’s still looking down at me, licking his lips. So I stick my tongue out, curve it upward and scoop the drop from him. He lets out a roar and throws his head back.

My only chance.

I squeeze his balls as tight as I can, my nails digging into the soft, loose skin.

His next roar is one of fury. And pain. He releases my hair and falls forward. I wriggle my way out from under his shocked body, wrench his arm back and slam the other cuff around his ankle, shackling him hand to foot. Then I stand back, taking in his bare chest and low moans.

He turns his contorted, abused face up to me, confusion and agony written all over it. “What in the godsdamn fuck are you doing?” He heaves a breath and pulls at the cuffs, now fully realizing his situation.

I pick up the stone between us, uncuff my ankles and pocket it. Then I take another four steps back before I tell him—