Page 19 of Far From Sherwood Forest (Far From #3)

I can’t be bothered to care the entire way to our destination either, letting him continue sucking on my fingers as both our breathing picks up. The next time I peer over at him, his eyes are hooded and there’s a bulge in his jeans as noticeable as mine.

Fuck, that’s hot.

I’m almost sad when I have to pull my fingers away to shut the engine off, but the needy little whine that comes out of Robin’s mouth makes it worth it. It makes me wonder if he might have some kind of oral fixation. The thought of making him warm my cock has said cock twitching eagerly.

But there’s no time for that. This is just a one time thing to get him out of my system, then I’ll be done with him.

He blinks, coming back to himself as he looks around at where we are. His brow furrows when he sees that we’re parked in front of my cabin.

“The ranger’s cabin?” he asks. “This is your place?”

“Don’t worry. We’re not going inside.”

There’s no way I could stand having Robin in my space.

He opens his mouth to undoubtedly ask more questions, but I open my door and get out before he can.

Seeing as how his hands are still cuffed behind his back, he has to wait for me to open his door.

When I do, I grab his arm and yank him out.

He stumbles, his chest hitting mine before he rights himself.

“What are we doing here?” he asks, peering around nervously.

Releasing him, I take a step back and grin. “You’re going to run.”

His eyes widen as they land on me again. “What?”

“You said you’d make me chase you.”

Realization crosses his face, and he swallows as he shifts on his feet. “Are you going to uncuff me?”

My grin widens. “No.”

“You can’t be serious. You expect me to run through the woods with my hands cuffed behind my back?”

“This is what happens when you want to fucking play with me, Robin.” I move forward again, crowding him against the side of my truck.

Reaching up, I brush a loose strand of hair off his forehead with a deceptively gentle touch that’s a stark contrast to how I really want to touch him, how I’ll be touching him soon.

When he starts to lean into it, I pull my hand away.

“Do you want to keep playing, or should I take you to the station after all?”

His glare hardens even while his eyes darken with lust. “I hate you.”

I think he might mean it, but it’s still not as much as I hate him.

“Good.” Stepping back again, I say, “You have five seconds to make your choice. I’ll even give you a head start. Are you going to run, Robin?”

He takes all five of those seconds to make his decision.

When he does, he rolls his eyes before breaking out into a sprint toward the trees.

I hang back, watching him go. Even though he’s usually faster than me, I’m pretty confident I’ll be able to catch him easier in his current predicament. Plus, I want the chase to last.

I give him about a minute before I go after him. I’m not much of a tracker, but it’s easy to figure out which direction he went by broken twigs and the disturbed ground. It doesn’t take long before I hear him crashing through the brush ahead.

I chose the area by my cabin for this because pretty much everyone stays away.

No one wants to explore the park close to the ranger’s home.

And even though it might be a bit busy today, those are mostly day visitors since it’s still too cold for most campers.

So no one’s likely to come out this far.

Following the sounds of Robin running and stumbling his way through the trees, I keep a consistent distance between us, not rushing. Just enjoying the thought of Robin’s heart hammering in his chest with anticipation.

“Do you know what I’m going to do to you when I catch you?” I call out. I don’t expect a response, and I don’t get one. “I hope you know what it is you really asked for, Robin, because there’s no backing out now.”

I have no plans on being gentle.

He wanted a hate fuck, so that’s what he’s going to get. I’ll fuck all my hate into him until he’s filled to the brim with it.

As I continue chasing him through the woods, the blood starts rushing to my cock again.

It’s the sounds coming from Robin up ahead growing louder—harsh breathing, grunts and curses every time he nearly trips.

It’s the feeling of being a hunter, a predator, and he’s my prey.

It’s the images in my head of what’s going to happen when I finally catch him.

I wonder if he’s as hard as I am.

“Your mouth really was so pretty when it was wrapped around my cock.”

My voice is barely breathless since I’m hardly having to exert myself. But somewhere ahead comes a slew of winded curses and the stirring of underbrush like maybe he almost fell. I chuckle to myself.

“I can’t wait to see how good your ass looks when it’s taking all of me next.”

“Fuck!”

There’s a thud and shuffling that gets louder as I keep moving forward. When I round the thick trunk of a tree, I see Robin on the ground, writhing like a fish out of water. I knew if he tripped, he’d have a hell of a time getting back up.

Leaning my shoulder against the tree, I watch him with a smirk on my face.

He tries to get his knees up under him but crashes back to the dirt.

He’s panting too heavily, and I can’t help but wonder if it also has something to do with how hard he might be.

He tries one more time, and when he fails again, his body falls limp, his cheek pressed to the cold ground.

“Giving up already?”

“Fuck…you,” he says between heaving breaths.

Grinning, I push off the tree and approach him. Pressing my foot against his side, I roll him over onto his back. His front is covered with dirt, his cheek smudged with it. It’s cold enough that his hot breath blooms above him but not quite cold enough that it lingers.

My gaze drifts down his body, and just as I suspected—and hoped—he’s as hard as I am, his dick trying to burst through his zipper.

I used to hate chasing Robin Hood more than anything.

Now?

“I could do this all day, Robin.” My eyes find his as I lift my boot and place it over his crotch. “How about you?”

Fear flashes in those beautiful jade pools as his chest rises and falls more rapidly. He has no way of stopping me as I press my boot down, but I don’t apply enough pressure for it to be too painful.

I could . I almost want to.

But I don’t.

Instead, it’s just enough to be pleasurable. Clearly. Since he moans and thrusts his hips up, chasing the friction I’m giving him.

“You’d get off on my boot again if I let you, wouldn’t you?”

He doesn’t have to answer. The desperate, aroused look in his hooded eyes is enough of one.

“Too bad.”

He whines when I remove my boot. Leaning over, I grab his arm and haul him to his feet.

He stumbles on weak legs as I turn him around and back him up against the trunk of the nearest tree.

I press the length of my forearm over his chest, pinning him in place as my other hand goes to the button of his jeans.

His eyes bulge as they lock with mine, his breathing picking up even heavier than before.

I get his jeans undone and reach into his underwear, taking his hard cock in my hand and pulling it free without ever breaking my gaze from his. A quiet, raw noise escapes him as his breathing ceases completely.

I thought I’d hesitate. I thought I might even experience a wave of disgust.

There’s none of that.

Not even close.

Ever since he came just by grinding down on my boot, I’ve wanted this. I’ve wanted to touch him, to feel the weight of him in my hand. To give him pleasure again.

As much as I’d still love to hurt him, I think I want this even more.

I move my hand, stroking him from base to tip as I keep my other arm pinned against his chest. He’s uncut like me and just a little smaller than I am, but he feels perfect in my hand. He lets out a strangled moan as I swipe my thumb across his slit, sweeping up the bead of precum there.

“Already leaking for me, huh, little thief?”

“Fuck, Henry,” he groans, thrusting into my hands.

I’ve always hated the sound of my name on his lips.

Until right the fuck now.

Tightening my fist, I stroke him again.

And again.

My touch is rough as I increase the pace, jerking him hard and fast. He doesn’t seem to care about my harsh grip or my dry, calloused hands as his eyelids flutter and his lips part.

I’d like to say this is my brand of punishment, but how can I when I’m enjoying that look of pleasure on his face?

His eyes finally close as his head falls back against the tree.

Moving my arm off his chest, I grab him roughly by the jaw and bring his face back to mine.

“Look at me,” I growl.

His eyes snap open, and he whimpers. His breath fogs the air between us as he pants heavily while I continue stroking him.

“I own your pleasure. Do you understand? It’s mine . You don’t get to feel it unless I’m the one giving it to you. You don’t get to come unless I give you permission.”

He just stares at me, a dazed look in his eyes.

“Do you understand?” I ask again, tightening both my grip on his cock and the one on his jaw.

“Yes,” he whispers as he tries to nod, but it’s weak. “Yours.”

Mine.

I let go of his face to pat him on the cheek. “Good boy.”

“Fuck,” he moans as he thrusts his hips again.

“You like that? Is that what you want, Robin?” I keep stroking him because…fuck, I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop. “You want to be a good boy for me? You spent so long being bad that now you want to feel what it’s like to be good, don’t you?”

“I’ll be good as long as you keep touching me,” he says breathlessly, an edge of desperation in his voice.

I grin. “I plan on touching you everywhere.”

He moans again and throws his head back once more, but this time, he keeps his eyes open and on me. I can see it all there—his pleasure, his desire. It’s all open and laid bare that if I looked closely enough, I could probably see his soul.

The moment his eyes dip down to my lips, I release him.