Page 175 of Shadowed Sins: Nitro

Silence, but I catch movement two rows over.

"You're trying to double back. Smart. Using the vine supports for cover." I track her by sound and scent. "But you favor your left foot when trying to move silently. And that breathing pattern when you're aroused and afraid? Dead giveaway."

"Fuck you." Her voice comes from the left, but movement flickers right. Misdirection.

"That's the plan, baby."

"Never been prey before, have you?" I'm closer now, circling. "Always the hunter. Always in control. But right now? Right now your pussy's already wet just from running. From being chased."

Another row over, moonlight on skin. Got you.

I find her pressed against a thick wooden support post, chest heaving, eyes wild. Sweat glistens on her throat, and I want to lick it off. Want to taste her fear and arousal mixed together. Her hands shake before she clenches them into fists—fighting for control even now.

"Caught you."

The knife comes up, blade flat against her throat. Not cutting, just cold metal against hot pulse. Her whole body shudders, and I can smell how wet she is.

"Anyone could see us." My free hand pins her wrist above her head, stretching her body out for my viewing. "Security patrols all night. They could find us any second."

"That's—" She swallows hard, the blade moving with her throat. "That's what you want. To be seen. To be caught."

"And you want the fear." I press closer, the knife still between us, my cock grinding against her hip. "The danger of it.The loss of control you never allow yourself. Not knowing if I'll fuck you or hurt you."

"Both," she breathes, and her eyes widen like she didn't mean to admit it. "I want both."

Christ.

I kiss her with the blade still at her throat, careful but present. She moans into my mouth, then bites my lip hard—a flash of the predator still fighting. When I pull back, her lips are swollen, eyes glazed.

"You're shaking," I observe, moving the knife down, using the tip to pop the first button of her shirt.

"Shut up." But her voice wavers as the second button goes. Then the third.

When her shirt falls open, revealing black lace barely containing her breasts, I have to pause. Have to just look at her—this deadly woman who trusts me with a knife at her throat, who gets wet from being hunted, who's as fucked up as I am.

"So fucking beautiful." The knife clatters to the ground as I drop to my knees, hands shaking as I work her jeans open. "Need to taste you. Been thinking about it all day. How you'd taste with fear and arousal mixed together."

"Jax—" But it's not a protest. It's need.

I yank her jeans and underwear down to her ankles in one motion, leaving them tangled there. She tries to step out of them but I hold them in place.

"Leave them. Makes it harder to run if you need to."

"Bastard," she breathes, but she's already trembling.

"Turn around." My voice comes out rough, commanding. "Hands on the post."

She obeys—and that's when I see it. The moment she surprises herself by obeying so easily. A tiny hesitation, then surrender. She bends at the waist, bracing herself against the wood, and the position is obscene—ass pushed out, legs forcedtogether by the denim shackles at her ankles. The moonlight shows everything—her glistening pussy peeking between her thighs, already dripping.

"Spread as much as you can." I drop to my knees behind her, hands gripping her ass, spreading her cheeks. "Let me see that pretty cunt."

She shifts her feet as wide as the jeans allow—maybe eighteen inches—and the view makes my cock throb painfully. From this angle, I can see everything. How swollen she is. How wet. How her hole clenches on nothing, desperate to be filled.

"Fuck, look at you." I lean in, breathing against her exposed pussy, watching her whole body shudder. "Already dripping down your thighs. The danger makes you this wet?"

"Jax, please—" The word escapes before she can stop it. Her whole body tenses, shocked at herself for begging.

I lick a long stripe from her clit to her entrance, and she nearly collapses. The position makes her more sensitive, more vulnerable, everything exposed to my mouth. I have to grip her hips hard to keep her upright as I feast on her from behind, my tongue fucking into her while she tries to muffle her cries.