Page 12

God, I need just a sip so badly. I can feel how dehydrated I am, every cell in my body screaming for relief. It doesn’t help that I drank so much the other night… or is it the same night? I have no clue how much time has passed.

One thing I’m sure—I won’t come close to the bars. I’m safe here, at the distance, away from his grabby hands. The memory of his touch still lingers on my skin, and I’d rather have him tear me apart than experience that again.

He huffs, his patience wearing thin.

“Let me go,” I say, flicking my eyes to him.

A low growl rumbles in Yeti’s chest, almost as if he understands my words.

The firelight flickers over his towering form, casting a devilish shadow that stretches across the cave wall behind me and swallows me whole.

My breath catches in my throat as he takes a step closer to the cage.

Each footfall is a threat, the ground quivering beneath his weight.

“No,” I whimper, my back pressing harder against the cold rock, as if I could somehow will myself to disappear into it. “No, please… ”

His eyes don’t leave me, dark and hungry. His oversized hands wrap around the iron bars, gripping them tightly, his claws scraping against the rusted surface. He leans closer, the bars creaking under the pressure of his strength.

“Stay back!” I scream, my voice raw and desperate.

He doesn’t listen.

His possessive gaze pierces through me, and his hand shoots through the bars. Quicker than I can react, he catches my wrist in a firm, unyielding grip.

“Let go!” I scream, but my voice is hoarse, trembling with fear.

He doesn’t.

With zero effort, he pulls me forward, pressing me against the cold iron bars. The jagged edges bite into my skin, digging directly between my thighs, and I gasp, the chill of it shocking against my bare flesh.

His head dips low as he crouches to my height, and I feel his breath against my skin—hot, damp, and sickeningly intimate.

His nostrils flare as he sniffs me, his chest rumbling with a low growl that vibrates against the metal pressing into my body.

I try to turn my head away, but his other hand rises to hold me still, his claws grazing the side of my neck.

“Please,” I beg, tears streaming down my face. “Please, don’t do this.”

It’s useless.

A thin line of saliva drips from his open mouth, pooling on the ground. Then, his purplish tongue flicks out .

The first lick is tentative, almost teasing—a quick, wet stroke against my collarbone.

I shudder, trying to pull away, but it only encourages him.

His tongue, impossibly long and textured, drags over my skin, tasting me.

It moves slowly, leaving a slick trail as it laps at my breasts, circling my nipples with deliberate care before flicking over them.

“Get that slimy thing away from me!” My desperate scream echoes off the walls, but he doesn’t stop. If anything, the sound spurs him on. I writhe against the bars, twisting in his grip, but he’s too strong. My struggles do nothing but amuse him.

His hand moves lower. Rough, calloused fingers trail down my spine, tracing the gentle curve of my back, leaving a trail of heat and pressure in their wake. My body tenses as his hand dips lower, between the cheeks of my ass, his claws grazing my skin just enough to sting.

I thrash, my movements frantic, but his grip tightens, holding me in place. His thick fingers probe, circling my asshole with unnerving precision. The cold bar presses harder against my clit with each attempt to pull away, sending unwanted sparks of sensation through me.

“Don’t fucking touch me there!” I hiss, my voice raw with desperation, but he only growls, his hot breath rolling over my skin like a predator savoring its prey.

His fingers shift, spreading my pussy lips, his claws firm but surprisingly careful, as though exploring a puzzle he’s determined to solve.

He slides them smoothly along my slit, back and forth, and I’m terrified to find myself wet.

I can hear just how saturated his fingers get, and for the life of me, I don’t understand my body’s reaction.

Why am I reacting to his disgusting touch?

Deeply inhaling my scent, he reaches the tight entrance of my pussy and his probing becomes more insistent, more invasive.

“I hate you!” I cry, my voice cracking as I kick out blindly, but my movements are weak against his strength.

His grip doesn’t falter, his eyes narrowing with a dark glint of satisfaction. He’s thrilled.

“You sadistic bastard!”

No reaction.

My breath comes in ragged gasps as his tongue returns, wet and relentless.

It drags across my breast, slow and deliberate, the rough texture teasing my stiff, aching buds.

The heat of his mouth clamps over one, suckling with greed that sends sharp jolts of sensation coursing through me.

His claws rake over my sensitive skin like tiny knives, as his fingertips tease both of my holes, testing, probing, asserting his control.

I’m powerless. A toy in his grasp, trapped in a storm of sensations I can’t escape.

And he fucking knows it.

My body shivers involuntarily at the overwhelming mix of pain and unwanted pleasure. But I won’t go without a fight.

I kick, I thrash, I scream—anything to free myself from his overpowering grip.

My nails claw at the iron bars of the cage as I try to twist away from him.

But it only makes him growl, low and guttural, a sound that seems to come from the very depths of his chest, vibrating through the air like a predator warning its prey to stop resisting.

One of my desperate kicks lands against his emerging cock. It’s an accident, but it doesn’t matter.

He freezes for a moment, his chest heaving, and then his deafening roar shakes the very walls of the cave. The force of it sends a cold chill down my spine, and my struggles falter as sheer terror takes hold of me.

I barely have time to react before he rises to his full height, towering over me like a monstrous god, his massive form blocking out the dim light.

Oh, I fucked up.