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“The box,” Ryker points to a gleaming metal container between two massive roots at the tree’s base. “Use your key.”

My hand trembles as I lift the delicate gold chain from my neck, the small key dangling between my breasts. The box is weathered steel with intricate engravings—symbols I don’t recognize etched into its surface. The lock clicks open easily when I insert the key, and Ryker kneels beside me, his mask still in place.

“Open it,” he commands, voice husky with anticipation.

I lift the lid, and my breath catches in my throat. Nestled on black velvet lies an assortment of objects that make my core clench with both fear and arousal. Among them, a realistic-looking prop gun, sleek and menacing.

“Jesus, Ryker.” My fingers hover over the contents.

He lifts the gun, handling it with practiced ease. “Safe, of course. But real enough where it counts.” His fingers caress the barrel in a way that makes my entire body flush with heat.

Beside it are other implements of pleasure and pain—things I’ve never seen before, let alone imagined inside me. The jungle suddenly feels too hot, too close around us.

“This is Level Twelve, Mischief,” Ryker purrs, lifting the gun and pressing its cool barrel against my heated skin. “Where we discover just how depraved we can be together.”

He guides me to my knees, positioning me over one of the tree’s massive roots. The rough bark scratches my inner thighs as he spreads me open from behind.

“Don’t move,” Ryker commands, his voice deep and possessive through the mask.

I hear him rummaging through the box again before the unmistakable buzz of a vibrator fills the clearing. My body tenses in anticipation.

“So wet already,” he murmurs, skimming the vibrator along my inner thigh. “Did the hunt excite you that much, Mischief?”

The vibrator makes contact with my clit and I jolt forward, a gasp escaping my lips. He pulls me back roughly by my hip.

“I said. Don’t. Move.”

The vibration intensifies as he presses it more firmly against me, sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body. My legs tremble as he works the toy in expert circles, bringing me to the edge.

“Please,” I whimper, my hips trying to rock against the stimulation.

“Please what?” He pulls the vibrator away just as I’m about to climax, leaving me gasping and desperate.

“I need to come,” I beg.

Ryker chuckles darkly behind me. “Not yet.”

His fingers grip the base of the plug still nestled in my ass—the one he inserted last night after filling me with his cum. The memory of him pushing it into me, sealing his seed inside, makes me moan shamelessly.

“Look at you,” he muses, applying gentle pressure to the plug. “Keeping yourself plugged all night like my good little whore. Keeping my cum safe inside you.”

He twists the plug slightly, making me gasp.

“Did you like running through the jungle knowing you were filled with cum? That every step you took, you could feel me inside you?”

“Yes,” I admit, my voice barely audible.

“Such a good whore for me,” he continues, slowly beginning to ease the plug out. “So obedient, keeping yourself ready for me always.”

The sensation of the plug sliding out makes me shudder, a whimper escaping my throat as the widest part stretches me before releasing.

The sensation of emptiness after Ryker removes the plug doesn’t last long. I feel the cool metal barrel of the prop gun pressing against my exposed entrance, making me gasp and stiffen instinctively.

“Shh, relax for me,” Ryker purrs behind his Ghost mask. “You’re going to take this just like you’ve taken everything I’ve given you.”

My body trembles as he begins to work the smooth barrel against my sensitive rim. The metal warms against my skin, and my breath comes in short, desperate pants.

“You are so desperate to be filled with anything I give you,” he growls, slowly applying more pressure. “Such a filthy little slut for me, letting me use a gun on your ass in the middle of the jungle.”