Page 59 of Scorned Beauty (Scorned Fate #5)

Three Months Later

Sloane

This was a bad idea. What was I thinking?

I stared back at the lights of the log cabin.

When Dom said he needed to take me to a remote area to fulfill my fantasies and I could scream to my heart’s content, I imagined a cabin in the woods.

Not this palatial three-story log cabin in the middle of a peach orchard in Bumfuck Georgia.

I was panting hard, and it felt like I’d been running for a while. I didn’t have a phone. I was wearing a light jacket, T-shirt, sweatpants, and running shoes.

What if I got lost? I eyed the edge of the forest that loomed in front of the orchard.

Granted, I’d been implanted with a new tracker.

Still, I depended solely on Dom to find me.

Besides his phone, he was probably using night-vision goggles to track me.

That stalker. He enjoyed this game as much as I did, if not a little more.

The brisk December air inflated my lungs as I slowed my strides.

It was why Dom picked the South for our little game where the average temperature was in the fifties at this time of the year.

We were lucky because a cold front was rolling in later this week.

We celebrated Thanksgiving with the De Luccis and Rossis a week ago.

A huge blended affair and it was a blast. Harriet was also invited.

After this trip, the Christmas season would be in full swing.

My mind was spinning at the number of invitations to parties and galas coming through Dom’s mailbox.

Unlike last year, when we hid our clandestine affair, this time there would be no hiding, and I was going to be the woman by Dom’s side.

The past three months was a whirlwind of activities.

After taking the NCLEX, I immersed myself in Dom’s world, but he’d also involved himself in mine, accompanying me in my visits to Harriet, and lending his support in facilitating background checks to the planned staff expansion at the Delphine Assisted Living Home.

I inhaled deeply and took a tentative step into the forest. Evergreens and pines stood as sentinels in between skeletons of trees. Dried leaves and fallen branches crunched beneath my feet.

Moving deeper into the forest, I felt better about not being lost. The lights of the cabin shined like a beacon through the soon-to-be-winter foliage. I should have known Dom wouldn’t risk anything that would endanger me.

A rustling of leaves had me spinning around and my heart clogged my throat in renewed fear.

Not that I feared squirrels, but surely he had no control over other wild creatures.

The negligible light of the new moon filtered through the ghostly branches and I tried to think of birds besides owls that hunted at night. I liked owls. Right?

Skittering near the trees had me spinning around again.

I almost called out Dom’s name.

But that would defeat the purpose of?—

What was that?

A shadow ghosted through the trees. That was too big to be a man, right?

Shit. Were there legends of Bigfoot in Georgia?

Soon, all I heard was labored breathing. Mine.

Run.

That was what Dom ordered as he leaned over the balcony of the log cabin when I was on the patio that led to the orchard.

He was shirtless, his broad shoulders and muscled pecs on display, wearing black jeans that made him so lickable and sexy, I wanted to call the whole thing off and fuck right there.

But delicious orgasms awaited good girls who ran.

My feet picked up the pace. The jacket was trapping the heat in my body. My senses became hyper-aware. Excited, I shed the outer layer, surrendering to the freedom of the night. The area between my thighs felt swollen, and my nipples were hard and sensitive against the bra.

The cabin lights were getting fainter, and the forest was losing light.

I stumbled over a jutting piece of tree root, but didn’t fall.

I straightened and paused.

In front of me stood Dom.

Or I hoped it was Dom.

The man was wearing a mask similar to the ones medieval executioners wore. It covered his entire head and neck.

My heart rate quickened.

Danger. Fear. Arousal.

Without another word, I sprinted to my right.

The crashing behind me let me know he was chasing me, getting closer. Shit. Shit. My heart pounded. Oxygen depleted. When I reached a small circular clearing, I struggled in which direction to go, but before I could take another step, he tackled me from behind.

We fell, and I tensed for impact, but he switched our positions and took the brunt of the fall.

Still, air left my lungs and my whole body lit up in fight-or-flight. To giggle or scream.

I jabbed my elbow behind me.

He grunted and flipped me over, my wrists pinned above me. How the hell does he do that?

“Gotcha,” he rasped.

“Fuck you.”

“Soon.”

He jackknifed to his feet and dragged me by my wrists a few feet farther.

“Let me go!” I screamed.

“You’ve been a bad, bad girl.”

In a blur, both wrists were locked to hooks on the ground.

My breasts rose and fell as my exhalations escalated in anticipation. I yanked at my wrists, but the cuffs bit into them. I was tied down and helpless.

“You fight and you’ll hurt yourself.” He stood over me. In the dim light, I could already see the shadowed bulge of his erection.

“Damn you, let me go!” My voice was turning hoarse as I clawed the forest floor covered with leaves and soft earth.

“Nah, I don’t think so. I have plans for you.”

A knife gleamed in his hand. And before I could scream again, I heard the ripping of my shirt.

Soon, my bra joined the shredded fabric.

He straddled my lower belly. Captured my neck with his fingers and squeezed before trapping my cry with a bruising kiss.

He released my neck, and arousal saturated my core.

So wet, I felt it trickle down at the juncture of my thighs.

He palmed my breasts as I kicked my legs and wiggled my ass.

Then he lowered his head and tongued my nipples.

Goose bumps erupted over my skin. Tweaked up and unbelievably horny, I squeezed my thighs together to control the ache to come.

His mouth resumed teasing my nipples as I continued to fight him, refusing to say the word that would stop this.

Because I wanted his domination.

I wanted his possession.

“Get off me,” I croaked. I was quickly losing my voice.

He trailed kisses down my belly, alternating with stinging bites. I heard more ripping as he exposed my pussy to his eyes.

Without warning, he stabbed two fingers inside me and I cried out.

He pumped vigorously, without gentleness or care. He was taking. Taking. Taking. “Hot damn, you’re dripping all over my fingers. You crave my cock, my little slut?”

“Bastard!” I spat.

He chuckled and shoved a third finger in. His fingers were thick, and the roughness with how he plunged them in and out made me wetter and wetter. “Liar. I can’t wait to stuff your pussy with cock, but it’s a sin to let this all go to waste.”

The first swipe of his tongue was pure torture.

He kept me on the edge. Alternating with nipping the insides of my thighs instead of giving me what I wanted—persistent rhythmic pressure.

I moaned and yelled in frustration. He shoved my thighs apart and one leg was still encased in my sweatpants.

I had no idea how he sliced it with his knife.

His lips clamped down on my pussy as he feasted and teased me closer to the edge before he backed off again.

That asshole.

I arched my back and bucked my hips. My wrists strained against the cuffs. He didn’t want me grabbing his head to shove his face to where I ached.

“Please.”

He stopped eating me. His head came up. His hands were on either side of my thighs, keeping me shamelessly open. I imagined the predatory glittering of his eyes.

“Please what?”

“Please make me come.”

He used the heel of his hand and massaged the tip of my pussy. Pressure mounted. The addictive buildup before the crashing wave. And when he shifted his heel to my mound and used his mouth again and sucked, I exploded. I screamed. Pulses and exquisite ripples of pleasure swallowed me whole.

I struggled to breathe. My back stiffened and my toes curled.

Oh my God.

I couldn’t take anymore. I started sobbing.

“Stop. I can’t take anymore.”

“Ah, baby,” he rasped. “Yes, you can.”

He continued assaulting my pussy with unrelenting strokes and suction. Multiple orgasms were a curse and a blessing. At this moment, I wasn’t sure what camp I fell on, but it wasn’t up to me.

Dom squeezed every orgasm out of me until I was hoarse from crying.

It was only then that he gave one last lick and rose above me. His hand loosened something behind his mask and tore it off. I could make out the shadowed outline of his angular features and imagined his dark eyes, so yes, mask or not, he maintained a sinister air.

“I didn’t say carrot cake ,” I whispered. Carrot cake was our safe word.

“I know,” he rumbled. “But I’m about to fuck you, and I don’t want you imagining anyone else but me.”

If I had the breath for it, I’d laugh. What came out was another gasp instead. “So…possessive.”

“Damn right I am.”

Then he plunged inside me. I was slick as hell, but taking Dom’s massive cock in one stroke was still a challenge…and a thrill.

He gripped my face, not letting me look away as he pounded into me savagely.

My hips squirmed and my arms strained as my fingers clawed at the ground as much as the cuffs would allow. When he let go of my face, one hand seized my throat and squeezed.

“Come,” he ordered.

“I…” I choked. I can’t. I can’t.

“You can. One more.” His fingers tightened, cutting off my air.

His dark eyes pierced into me. “You turn me into a fucking animal, Sloane.”

He withdrew completely before surging into me, at the same time freeing his clasp on my throat.