Page 21 of Little Author

I didn’t think.

I ran the second his back was turned, blood on his hands, eyes closed, and fucking counting like I was a child.

My blood is on his hands.

His rage still sizzled in the area like a storm about to crack open.

I bolted through the streets into the trees where no one would see me.

I didn’t scream.

My lungs burned as I tore down the muddy hiking trail behind the kids’ park. My boots slipped in the wet grass. Branches clawed at my arms like fingers trying to shove me back toward him. Trying to drag me back to fucking hell.

I didn’t care.

I couldn’t.

If I stayed, I didn’t know if he’d fuck me again…or kill me.

Maybe both.

The woods swallowed me. And the cold, damp air felt peaceful.

Birds singing broke the silence like laughter. I ducked behind a thick tree trunk, collapsed into the brush, heart thudding like a jackhammer. My nightdress stuck to my thighs with sweat, blood, and panic.

I pressed a hand over my mouth.

I could still feel him inside me.

The brutal way he took me in the alley. The way he looked down at me like I was something he’d built with his own bare hands.

Maybe he had.

I was filthy and shaking and finally his.

I hated how much I wanted to go back.

He will kill you. Walk away, you daft twat.

Leaves crunched.

I froze.

Footsteps.

Heavy, slow, and intentional.

“Come out, come out wherever you are.”

No.

My breath caught. I stayed low, barely daring to peek around the tree. And then I heard it. That voice.

Too close.

“You really think I wouldn’t find you? You think the woods are gonna save you, Little Author?”

I bolted again.

I only made it two steps before I was hauled to the ground by my hair. My breath whooshed out in a cry. He was on me in a second, pinning me in the dirt, both wrists trapped in one of his hands above my head.

I could see pieces of my hair falling from his grip.

“You want me to kill you?” he snarled in my ear. “Because I might. I might, Elodie. You’re fucking pushing it. I love your fear and your tears, but this defiance act? It makes me want to bleed it out of you.”

I whimpered, tried to turn my head, but he grabbed my hair and yanked my head back in place.

“You fucking ran after everything I gave you. After everything, you are now. After the story we created together? I’m hurt,” he mocked.

“I was scared,” I gasped. “Roux…”

In one swift move, I was put onto my stomach. My face shoved into the mossy ground. His hand slid under my hips and yanked them up, pushing my ass into the air, so my nightdress bunched around my waist.

“You weren’t scared,” he growled. “You were wet . I could smell it on you while you ran. My Little Author loves being hunted, don’t you? Even now you’re shaking, but you’re soaked for me.”

I shook. I hated how true it was. I hated how my body responded, how my thighs clenched, how my breath caught.

I hated how I wanted him to hurt me.

Roux didn’t waste time.

I felt him spit between my cheeks. Felt his thumb rub the slickness down to my tight hole. I gasped, tried to jerk away, but he held me firm.

“No,” he growled. “You want to run, baby? Then I’ll fuck you like an animal. I’ll fuck your ass until you forget how to walk so all you can do is submit.”

He pressed the head of his cock against my ass and shoved in, slow, brutal, and merciless. I screamed, gripping the earth, but he didn’t stop.

“Oh fuck yes,” he breathed. “That’s it. That’s my girl. Take it. Remind me why I have kept you breathing.”

Tears burned my eyes. Pain, heat, and humiliation surged through me all at once, but underneath it…underneath the ache and the shock, there was something else.

Need.

The dirt was driven into my skin. The world spun. He fucked me with slow, punishing thrusts, hips slamming into me over and over, every inch claiming, every growl in my ear a promise.

“Stop! I am not even wet anymore. Stop it, Roux!”

My body burned and broke beneath him.

But it wasn’t over.

I felt something cool touch my back, sharp and unforgiving. Pain flared down my back with the cut he made. Wet, warm blood dripped down and coated my ass and pussy.

“Bleed with me.”

Roux moaned and thrusted harder, using my own wetness and my blood to pump deeper into my ass.

His fingers slammed into my cunt, my body agonized and unable to stop myself from coming over and over.

“You belong to me,” Roux snarled. “You run, I find you. You hide, I drag you back. You want to act like prey? Fine. I’ll put you down. It’s just a matter of how much pain you want to be in before you submit to me.”

I moaned through clenched teeth, humiliated at how my body pulsed, how slick I was, how I couldn’t stop trembling.

“Say it,” he said. “Say you want me, that you like this. No more lies, Little Author. This is your story. I brought it to life for you. Chased in the woods, and fucked by your Master. You wanted this. You begged for this. Admit it. You needed to break for me.”

“I-I-I need this,” I whispered.

“Louder.”

“I need this, Roux. I’m fucking yours to ruin.”

He groaned, buried himself to the hilt, and came with a feral sound, grinding into me so deep I couldn’t breathe. He emptied himself inside me like he meant to breed me. Like he was claiming me, rooting into my soul like the trees around us.

He stayed there, cock twitching inside me, breath hot against my back.

We stayed like that for a long moment. Me, with my face down in the dirt, with him still inside me. The forest was still and silent again.

No more birds.

No more songs.

“I should break those pretty legs of yours for running,” he whispered against my ear. “Consider this a gift.”

And he pulled out slow, with a wet, obscene noise, letting me feel every inch of him leaving me absolutely destroyed.

And as he walked away, his spent cock dangling out of his pants, I saw it.

The soft lights of the police car.