Page 19 of Run, Little Doe
Only a pulse. Only heat.
The warmth is spreading through me for the number of times I can’t count tonight, starting low in my stomach and radiating down between my thighs. If I wanted to check, I know I’d be slick with need. My pulse races every time he speaks, my body betraying the fear in my mind with undeniable want.
I try to take one step, but his hand finds me again — catching my wrist, gentle but firm. His skin is warm, calloused, and steady. The contrast to my racing heart nearly undoes me.
The sound that leaves me isn’t a word — it’s a gasp, sharp and desperate.
His thumb traces my wrist, and I’m certain he can feel my pulse pounding. Without thinking, I instinctively lean back into him, my body saying what my mouth won’t voice aloud.
He steps in closer behind me once again. His hard chest meets my back, solid and sure, and I can feel the bulge of his cock twitching against my ass under his jeans. His breath fans over my neck, and I swear I can feel his heartbeat through my spine.
“Do you know what happens to prey when they stop running?” he murmurs.
I shake my head slow, afraid to speak, afraid of what will happen if I do.
“They get caught.”
His right hand lets go of my wrist to encapsulate my throat once again, tipping my head back as he kisses my neck, and a soft moan escapes me. His other hand grabs my left hip, pulling my ass into him, making sure I know exactly what he plans to do. He reaches down, fingers grazing the edge of my panties, and I know he can feel how soaked they are. He slips one finger inside and brushes my clit, sending fireworks through my vision. Myknees buckle. I bite my lip to stop the sound clawing its way up my throat.
His fingers tighten around my throat, just enough to remind me how easy it would be for him to stop me from leaving; How much I want him to.
“Run,” he says as he removes his fingers from my clit where I so desperately crave his touch, his voice dark and silky. “But know that if I chase you again…” He leans closer, lips against my ear. “I will not stop this time, and you will pay for running from me when I’m so close to having you exactly where I want you.”
The words set something off inside me — sharp, hot, feral, uncontrollable. I don’t move. It would be pointless to try. I don’t think I even breathe. I can feel his breath, hot on my ear, the drag of his wolf mask through my hair. My body responds to him, eagerly, a helpless response to a need I can’t quite explain. When I finally turn to face him, the mask glints in the faint light, catching on the strong line of his jaw. The Wolf’s eyes are hollow and black at night, endless. He’s still wearing it, and yet somehow, that makes it better. Worse? My body tells me, it’s everything.
“I want to see you,” I whisper.
His head tilts, slow, and animalistic. “You see enough.”
I lift my hand to touch his mask, desperate to see who has been chasing me all night, but he catches my wrist before I can. He brings my hand to his mouth, the faint brush of his lips over my pulse sends chills through my entire body, and goosebumps rising on my flesh. The world around me feels as if it’s spinning.
“Little Doe,” he says softly, his voice a growl wrapped in tenderness. “If I show you who and what I am, you’ll never run again.”
That’s exactly what I want, I think. My breath catches as he presses closer — one inch, then another. Every nerve in my body lights up, the air is thick with heat and want. His lips work up my forearm, kissing and nibbling and licking along the way. My body responds instinctively, a moan I was not expecting escaping my throat.
My brain is telling me to run, that no good can turn out from something like this, but my body betrays my mind. Feeling this man pressed against my back, I cannot function. My heart is racing so fast, it drowns out my thoughts and reasoning.
“I’m not afraid,” I whisper. “Not of you.”
He exhales like it hurts to hear it. He lets go of my wrist, and his fingers slide into my hair, tangling with the ribbon, drawing my head back just enough for his breath to find my throat.
My pulse is erratic, and my restraint to try to fight this is dissolving. I want this as badly as he does, I can feel it.
The sound that leaves me is somewhere between a sigh and a sob. When his hand tightens, I realize the truth that’s been waiting to be admitted all night.
I absolutely, desperately want to be caught.
Sirena
He doesn’t move for a long moment. Just breathes me in — the scent of sweat, smoke, and something deeper neither of us can name. Then, slowly, his grip loosens and he steps back.
The air rushes between us again, cold and aching.
My legs shake. My pulse still pounds in my throat. I turn, searching for him in the dark, but the space where he stood is empty.
The forest exhales. Somewhere far off, an owl calls. The night resumes its rhythm, but mine is broken.
I delicately trace my fingers along the spot where his hand grasped my throat. I can still feel the heat of his touch against my skin. My body is desperate for more contact, for the friction of his body against mine.