Page 22 of Run, Little Doe
He pumps me furiously, filling me to the brink with every inch of his hard, pulsing cock. Harder. Faster. Feral. I can feel myself so close to the edge of orgasm. I close my eyes and throw my head back, relishing in every sensation, and then, he slips out of me, and my eyes pop open.
When it’s over — when the forest finally exhales and the world begins again — I’m left shaking, unable to tell where his touch ends and mine begins. I’m so desperate for release, and he just stares at me.
The air between us cools, but inside me, the fire keeps burning.
He’s still wearing the mask, I’m still wearing mine, and somehow that makes it feel even more real. For the first time, I understand what it means to becaught.
The Wolf
For a moment, the world narrows to the sound of her breathing. Fast. Shallow. Beautiful. Her pulse thrums through the night, a rhythm I’ve memorized — quick, uneven, begging to be caught. I can still taste her fear, her want, her arousal, the salt of it sharp in the freezing air.
I should step back. I should let her catch her breath, but I can’t.
Every instinct I’ve buried claws to the surface, demanding what I’ve been denying for years. She’s here in front of me — trembling, legs splayed open, waiting — and I feel it in my bones, that primal certainty that she belongs to me. Not as possession, not as prize, but as something older, deeper, inevitable. I love seeing her, heady and begging for release. Denying her pleasure now only to give it to her everything she craves in time. I want to savour every moment, every breath, every thrust.
She makes a sound — a soft, involuntary sound that breaks me wide open. It’s not fear. It’s need. The kind that drives men to ruin.
The forest feels alive again. Branches whisper. Leaves shudder. The air thickens with the echo of every unspoken thought between us. I can feel her heartbeat through the space that still separates us — so close now it’s unbearable.
I’ve spent so long pretending I didn’t want this. Pretending I could be the man who smiles across a bar counter and forgetsher when she leaves. But she never left me. Not really. She’s haunted every night since.
I can feel myself giving into the animal instinct, the feral need to mate. My body reacts to hers, my cock twitches to be buried deep inside her tight cunt again, filling her with every inch, fucking her into oblivion. I want her to be a puddle of need, desire, and come.
When she tilts her head back, I see the moonlight catch on the ribbon of her mask again. That single detail destroys me. The way it clings to her pulse like a promise.
If I take her now, she’ll know who I am — not the man who’s watched from the shadows, but the one who’s wanted her without apology. The one who’s dreamed of this moment until it became a kind of madness. I want her to choose it. To meet me in the dark. To show me she wants the Wolf just as much as the man.
She looks up, as if she’s heard my thoughts — as if she’s answering them. Her lips part, and the smallest sigh escapes, a plea. It’s surrender wrapped in defiance, and I swear I feel it all the way down to my bones.
It’s all the permission I need. My hands grasp her waist, and my lips crash into hers, my tongue darting out, her lips parting to greedily take every ounce of this kiss. The forest watches silent witness to the moment everything shifts. The hunt is over. The hunger, the ache, the restraint — all of it threads together into something raw and consuming.
I lean closer, voice rough, unrecognizable even to my own ears. “Run again,” I whisper. “No matter what, I will catch you.”
Her breath stutters. She doesn’t move. Instead, she whispers back — something so quiet I almost think I’ve imagined it, “I’m done running.”
And that’s it, the last barrier falls, I’m consumed by her. My hands grip her waist, hers still tied behind her back, and I pick her up and throw her over my shoulder. I’m done waiting. I lay her in the hollow of the largest tree near us and cage her beneath me. I’m rougher than I intend to be, but I can’t stop myself. I’ve waited so long, and my body and mind are fully taking this to every possibility I’ve imagined.
She’s all breath, and breasts. All want, and intensity. I want to see her come undone underneath me. I take my left hand and gently pull the crimson ribbon that’s held her doe mask securely on her face for the entire evening. I don’t want to look at a mask; I want to see her when she comes undone for me. I want to see the look on her face when I ruin her for anyone else.
In that instant, the forest exhales, the world burns white around us, and every dark, forbidden thing I’ve ever wanted finally answers back.
The doe mask falls to the side, and as those gorgeous whisky-coloured eyes look up at me, I slam my cock into her tight, dripping cunt, as a needy gasp erupts from her throat. She winces, feeling every inch of my length stretching her wide.
Sirena
The world feels different now.
Quieter. Hotter. Like the forest itself is holding its breath with me.
His shadow moves before I see him — that familiar shape, all hunger and control. His mask glints in the half-light, bone-white and terrible, and still my body answers like it’s known him forever. I feel even more bare now that he’s removed my mask, despite my breasts being on display and my legs splayed open, skirt flipped up over my stomach.
His tongue finds my center, and I see stars. Every thought splinters. My body completely takes over. The part of me that should saynohas already gone quiet, drowned out by the pulse between my legs and the ache that’s been building since the festival.
I don’t know what this is — insanity, madness, lust, fate, — only that it’s been waiting for us.
He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t have to. His silence is its own command. When he finally touches me again, it’s not gentle; it’s worship disguised as hunger.
He licks and sucks and nibbles at my clit while he slips one finger inside, followed immediately by a second. His hands are so big,and the pain of him stretching my pussy feels delicious. I can feel myself tumbling towards the edge of orgasm.