20. Alice

20

ALICE

I 'm walking back to my apartment, my mind still reeling from Derek's words, when I spot Lars leaning against his motorcycle, a cigarette dangling from his lips. My heart skips a beat, a mixture of excitement and apprehension coursing through my veins.

As I approach, Lars pushes off his bike and tosses the cigarette, stomping it out with his boot. His eyes narrow as he strides toward me, his jaw clenched.

"Where the hell have you been?" he demands.

My mouth is suddenly dry. "I had a meeting with my boss," I manage, my voice wavering slightly.

Lars draws nearer, his massive frame towering over me, forcing me to step back. His intimidating presence gives me goosebumps. "You don't have a boss," he growls.

"What do you mean I don't have a boss? Of course, I do. Derek is?—"

"Derek fired you," Lars interrupts, his eyes boring into mine. "I was there when he told you not to return if you walked out with me."

"Well, maybe he's changed his mind," I snap, squaring my shoulders. "And it's my business, not yours."

Lars grabs my arm, his grip like iron. "It's my business when you're coming with me at the end of this week. The carnival's leaving town, princess, and you're coming with us. No arguments."

I yank my arm free, glaring up at him defiantly. "Like hell I am! I'm not just going to abandon my life here on your whim. I have responsibilities. I can't just wander off into the sunset with your carnival."

His eyes narrow. "A whim?" His voice is deadly calm.

"We barely know each other," I protest, trying to reason with him. "It's not like me to just take off because of a guy, especially one I've only known for a short time."

Lars's eyes flash angrily, and he grabs his spare helmet, forcing it onto my head. "Get on the bike," he orders.

I open my mouth to protest further, but the look in his eyes silences me. With a resigned sigh, I climb onto the back of his motorcycle. He climbs in front of me, and I wrap my arms around his waist.

Before I can settle in, Lars revs the engine and peels away from the curb, the sudden acceleration nearly knocking the wind out of me. We race through the streets of Willow Creek at a terrifying speed, the buildings and trees blurring into a kaleidoscope of colors.

I cling to Lars, my heart pounding as we fly past the town limits and onto the open road. The wind whips at my clothes and hair, and I can barely catch my breath.

"Where are we going?" I shout over the engine's roar, but Lars doesn't answer. He just leans forward, urging the bike to go even faster.

I glance over his shoulder and realize we're headed toward the national park, the towering trees and rugged mountains looming in the distance. My stomach twists with fear and excitement, and I wonder what Lars has planned for us.

As we speed down the highway, I can't help but feel a thrill of exhilaration coursing through my veins. Despite the danger and the uncertainty, there's something intoxicating about being with Lars, about how he takes control and pulls me into his world.

But even as I lose myself in the rush of the ride, a small voice in the back of my mind whispers a warning. I barely know this man, yet I let him whisk me away to God knows where.

Finally, he pulls to a stop in a dense forest.

I climb off the motorcycle, my legs shaky from the adrenaline-fueled ride. The silence is broken only by birds' occasional chirping and leaves rustling in the breeze. I glance around, realizing how isolated we are, and a sense of unease settles in my stomach.

Lars dismounts the bike, his movements deliberate and controlled. He turns to face me, his eyes dark and intense. I can sense the anger radiating off him, sending a shiver down my spine.

"Why did you bring me here?" I ask.

He takes a step toward me, his jaw clenched. "I brought you here to prove I'm anything but a whim."

I swallow hard, my heart pounding in my chest. "What do you mean?"

Lars closes the distance between us, his broad frame looming over me. "Strip," he commands.

My eyes widen in shock. "What? No!" I protest.

"I said, strip," Lars repeats. "Take off your clothes, now."

I shake my head, crossing my arms over my chest defensively. "I'm not doing that, Lars. You can't just order me around like this."

His jaw clenches, and he grabs my wrist, yanking me toward him. "You don't understand, princess," he growls, his face mere inches from mine. "You're mine now. And when I tell you to do something, you do it."

I try to pull away, but his grip is like iron. "Let go of me, Lars," I demand. "I'm not some toy for you to play with."

He releases my wrist, but his eyes never leave mine. "Strip," he says again, his voice low and menacing. "Or I'll do it for you."

"Fuck off, Lars!" I snarl, my anger boiling over. I turn on my heel, determined to put some distance between us.

But before I can take more than a step, Lars's hand closes around the back of my neck, yanking me back toward him with a force that makes my knees buckle. My heart hammers in my chest as I find myself face-to-face with him again.

His eyes burn fiercely, and before I can utter another word of protest, his lips crush against mine. My body stiffens instinctively, and his grip on my neck tightens, preventing my escape.

Lars's hand curls around my wrist. "I told you to strip."

I struggle against him. "Get off me, Lars! This isn't a game. You can't treat me like this!"

His thumb strokes my pulse point. "You've been mine since the moment we met. Don't fight it."

My body shudders as his lips trail down my neck. "Stop," I whisper.

Lars pulls back, studying my face with those dark eyes. Then, without warning, he unzips my dress roughly and yanks it down. My breath catches in my throat as the cool air caresses my bare skin.

Before I can react, Lars pulls off my bra in a swift motion. "You want this, princess. Don't deny it."

"No," I pant. "I don't want a psychopath."

He chuckles, the sound sending a shiver down my spine.

"Please," I whimper, my body trembling as he cups my breasts again, his thumbs rubbing circles around my taut nipples.

"Are you begging me to stop or keep going?" he demands.

I breathe, my heart warring between the thrill of my body's response to his touch and the warning bells clanging in my mind. This is wrong. So very, very wrong. I should push him away, kick him where it hurts, and run for my life. But something holds me back, something that keeps me rooted to the spot, my body trembling in his grasp.

"Lars, this is insane," I whisper, my voice hoarse.

He chuckles, the sound sending shivers down my spine. "That's the point, princess."

His mouth crashes down on mine again, stealing my breath away. My body melts into his, a traitor to the uncertainty swirling in my mind. His tongue tangles with mine, demanding my submission. My hands, of their own volition, find their way into his hair, pulling him closer.

"You taste so fucking good," he growls, his lips trailing down my neck.

I arch my back, my body yearning for more. I've never felt such raw, unchecked desire before. It scares me.

"Please," I whimper, my hands moving to the waistband of his jeans.

Lars growls, his mouth finding mine again, his tongue plunging into my mouth as his fingers tease my wetness.

I moan into his mouth, my body bucking against his hand. His touch is rough and demanding, sending me into a frenzy. I can't think, can't breathe, can only feel the all-consuming need pulsing through me.

"You want this," he growls against my neck. "Say it."

My breath comes in ragged gasps as his fingers dive deeper, massaging my sweet spot. "Yes," I whisper, my body bucking against his hand. "I want this."

"You want me," he corrects, his voice thick with desire.

"Yes," I pant, my body on the edge of oblivion. "I want you."

"Good girl," he praises, and it makes my nipples tighten.

I unbuckle his jeans and pull down the zipper, freeing his thick, hard cock. He hisses as I wrap my hand around it and tug.

Lars backs me up against a tree, his mouth crushing down on mine, his hands moving urgently over my body. I can feel the rough bark against my back, scratchy and unyielding. Still, I barely register the sensation as Lars's fingers slam inside me.

He hoists me up with ease, and I wrap my legs around his waist. I gasp as he buries his thick, pierced cock inside me, filling me completely. Our mouths remain locked together, tongues dancing frantically as he begins to move, his thrusts deep and urgent.

My fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as I match his rhythm, my body responding to his with an urgency I can't control. The world around us falls away, and all that exists is the feel of his body against mine, the sound of our ragged breaths, and the beating of our hearts.

Lars's mouth moves to my neck, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin as his thrusts become harder, faster. "Oh, fuck, princess," he growls. "You feel so damn good."

My head falls back against the tree, my breath coming in sharp gasps as the rough bark scrapes my skin. But I barely notice the sting as pleasure radiates through me with each of Lars's powerful thrusts.

I tighten my legs around him, urging him on, my body on the edge of oblivion. "Please, Lars, I need?—"

"I know what you need," he growls, his hips snapping forward, driving into me with force.

"Oh, God," I moan, my body arching off the tree. "Right there. Don't stop."

Lars obliges, his hands gripping my ass as he drives into me with deliberate, forceful thrusts. His piercing hits that perfect spot inside me every damn time.

His thrusts become more erratic, his body tensing as he nears his release. "Fuck, Alice," he grunts, his hips snapping forward one final time.

I cry out, my body shuddering in release as waves of pleasure ripple through me. Lars groans, his body slumping against mine as he spills himself deep inside me.

We stay like that for a moment, our bodies intertwined, our breaths beginning to slow. Then, with a gentle nudge, Lars sets me back on my feet, his hands steadying me against the tree.

I catch my breath, my body still buzzing with the aftershocks of my release. Lars steps back, his eyes dark and intense as he regards me, my hair wild, my dress on the floor.

He takes my hand, his eyes locking with mine. "Come with me, Alice," he says, his voice softer now, almost pleading. "Leave this place behind at the end of the week and join the carnival."

I bite my lip, my heart torn. A part of me wants to say yes, to throw caution to the wind and embrace the madness that is Lars. But the rational part knows it's insanity to leave stability for the unknown.

I shake my head, my voice catching in my throat as I try to find the words to explain the turmoil within me. "Lars, this is crazy," I whisper. "I can't just leave my life behind and join a carnival. It's not that simple."

A flash of hurt crosses his face, quickly masked by anger. "So, that's it?" he demands. "After everything we've shared, you're just going to walk away?"

"I have a life here. A job, friends, responsibilities?—"

"Fuck your job!" he explodes, his eyes darkening with rage. "You think that life is going to fulfill you? It's mundane. Ordinary. You're not ordinary. You're extraordinary, and you deserve more."

I take a step back, my heart pounding in my chest. His words resonate within me, striking a chord I can't ignore.

Do I really want to settle for the mundane? For a life that feels like I'm just going through the motions?

Lars softens his gaze, stepping closer. "You're not like them, princess. You're wild and free, like me. Don't cage yourself in a life that'll suffocate your spirit."

"You're right," I whisper, my voice barely audible. "I'm not like most people, but that doesn't mean I should run away and join a carnival."

"Then what?" he challenges. "What are you going to do, Alice? Will you spend the rest of your life working a dead-end job, dreaming of what could've been? Or are you going to take a chance on me?"

I bite my lip, my heart torn. Lars is right. My life isn't fulfilling. It's comfortable and predictable, but it doesn't set my soul on fire. And with Lars, every moment is an adventure, a rush of excitement and danger.

But is that enough? Can I give up everything I know for a man I barely know? A man who scares me as much as he excites me?

The silence stretches between us, heavy with unspoken words and decisions left hanging in the balance. Lars's hand finds mine, his eyes pleading, and I feel the weight of the choice I have to make like a ton of bricks crashing down on me.