Chapter 6

M y legs are screaming for me to stop with every step. I run all the time, but never barefoot and through the fucking forest. Greyson's personality changes in the blink of an eye, and I'm feeling a bit of whiplash from it. He's undeniably terrifying, but I can't help but be intrigued by it. The way his presence dominates the entire space around him is like nothing I've ever seen before. My father was a powerful man, but he did not command respect in the same way Greyson does. He may have thought he did, but my father was nothing more than an abusive prick with next-to-zero fighting skills. His men handled most of his dirty work, but they always left a little for him when it came to beating me.

I see a path ahead, and the lodge just on the other side of it. It's maybe two hundred yards from the start of the path to the edge of the forest, and that's where I'll break free. Greyson hasn't made a sound since I took off, and that scares me the most, but I'm trying not to think about it as I see the lights ahead.

All I have to do is make it there. So close, yet so far. Every step feels like ten.

Pushing myself harder, I jump over the final rock blocking my way to the path. My feet land smoothly on the flat surface, and I pick up speed, using my arms to help propel me forward.

200 yards.

I keep sprinting, breathing so hard my lungs might give.

175 yards.

Closer and closer, I'm almost there. The lights are getting brighter, and I can see the faint outline of people moving near the lodge.

150.

Suddenly, he's on top of me, crashing into me so hard it knocks the wind out of me. I can't breathe as we collide with the ground, landing several feet off the path. Greyson's using the weight of his entire body to force me into the dirt. Pushing against him does nothing; he's too big. Too heavy. He's easily twice my size.

There's a crazed look on his face as he tries to pin me down, shoving my dress up as we fight. His frustration is apparent when his hand reaches for his mask, ripping it off and throwing it to the ground beside me.

"You're MINE," he yells, making quick work of unfastening his belt. His voice is almost unrecognizable as he gets lost in his game of lion and gazelle. Of predator and prey.

I kick against him, using all of my strength to get him off of me, but he doesn't budge. He's completely unaffected by my efforts, making me feel weak and vulnerable. I'm at his mercy, and he's savoring every fucking second of it.

Greyson's hair is disheveled, and it's the first time I've ever seen him anything less than perfectly composed and groomed. The control he once had over himself is gone, replaced by a crazed animal desperate for a meal.

I'm his meal.

And I can't say I hate it right now. It feels a lot like betrayal when my hips lift to meet his, pressing into the hard spot in his pants. We're both losing control.

He growls low and deep when he feels me against him, and I watch his eyes flutter closed for a moment before reopening. The look in his eye tells me that this is him making his claim to me. Nothing and no one can stop him from taking what's his.

"Greyson," I breathe when I see the knife reemerging from his pocket. It's flipped open in an instant, and he's bringing it toward my throat.

He doesn't answer, completely consumed with his power over me.

"Greyson," I repeat, softer this time.

Positioning the blade at my throat, he runs his tongue over his lips. My body stills, and I stop fighting him. I can't fight him while there's a knife threatening to end my life. One slip and I'm dead. I'm smarter than that.

"Hold still," he commands as he presses a finger over my lips, drawing it down and over my chin.

Trailing my neck, his eyes work their way down to my cleavage. A soft moan escapes his lips when he begins to palm them, ripping the fabric of my dress down far enough to expose both of my breasts. A moan of my own slips through my lips as he pulls my nipple between his fingers, pinching it just hard enough to hurt. He sees my reaction, and he responds by bringing his blade to my breasts. The metal is cold against my skin, making goosebumps rise in a trail as he slides it. Changing the angle, he knicks my skin just enough to draw blood. I cry out as he opens my flesh, and it only makes him press harder.

If he wanted to, he'd cut deeper, which tells me he's maintaining some sort of control. The blade is so sharp he's barely using any pressure, yet it's making a clean cut.

Greyson's free hand moves from my nipple, lazily touching its way down to my black panties. Rubbing his fingers over them, his eyes close when he feels how wet I am. I bite my bottom lip, trying to hold in a moan, but his touch is so light and I need more. I feel like I might die if he doesn't give me more.

Blood leaks out of me, flowing in a small stream over my chest. It mixes with dried blood, making various shades of crimson. Greyson bends closer, and I stop breathing as he holds the blade back to my throat. His mouth is on my breasts, lapping at the open wound as he begins working my pussy with his fingers.

Pushing the lace to the side, he slips a finger inside me, quickly withdrawing it to run it through my slick center. I arch my back off the ground, letting my head fall against the earth. He removes the blade from my throat, bringing it down to my panties. The metal slices through the fabric with ease as he cuts them from my body.

Greyson brings them to his nose, inhaling my scent before throwing them to the side. His eyes are the shade of black I'd expect to find at the bottom of the ocean. Lifeless and void.

After throwing my panties to the side, Greyson lifts my mask from my face, carefully placing it beside himself. I feel a weight lifted as I'm uncovered, like I'm me again.

"I want to watch your face as I fuck you," Greyson says, unzipping his pants and freeing his dick from the tight confinement of his boxers.

My eyes widen when it springs free. He's even bigger than I thought he'd be, and now my mouth is watering as I watch him stroke himself a few times, pushing a bead of precum out of his slit.

I should be resisting, fighting back, but I can't find the willpower. His power is all-consuming and dominating. I want to be dominated. I wet my lips as I reach for him, and he lets me replace his hand with my own.

Greyson and I both moan as I take him in my hand and begin working him. My hand slides up and down the length of his dick, and he fills it completely. His hips buck, and he pumps himself into my hand as he yearns for more.

Temporarily, I let go, bringing my hand to my mouth as I release a wad of spit into it. His dick slides smoothly through my fingers as I spread them, gripping him with enough pressure to feel his pulse as it pumps through him.

"Fuck, Isabelle," he groans, rocking his hips.

In response, I move faster, working my arm up and down until I can't anymore. The average man would have come within the first thirty seconds of my touch, but Greyson has stamina. Perhaps more self-control than I thought as well.

He pulls out of my grasp, and his dick bobs as he backs up, lowering himself onto his knees. The way he watches me as he lowers his mouth to my pussy has me unraveling, ready to explode for him.

One lick and I'm crying out for him. His tongue is flat and warm against my pussy, and he's sliding it over my entire center. Up and down he glides, spreading my wetness all over. He moans into my clit as his mouth covers it, making a vibration with his vocal cords as he hums. My fingers find his hair, and I hold on, pressing his head into my pussy. I want him to devour me whole. I didn't understand his little game of predator and prey, but it suddenly makes sense.

He loves the thrill of the hunt, and I love what's happening now that he's caught me. We're both breathless and panting like wild animals, completely consumed in one another. The pain of his blade heightened my senses, and now everything feels that much more intense.

"Oh, fuck," I whimper, coming more and more undone with each passing second.

"You taste so fucking sweet," he whispers, pushing a finger inside me, then withdrawing it. He brings it to my chest where he swirls my wetness with my blood, coating his fingers. "Open," he says as he watches my mouth.

I'm hesitant, but I obey when he presses his fingers to my lips, prying them open. The metallic taste of my blood hits my tongue first.

"Now close," he commands, not losing that feral look in his eye. If anything, he's lost more control.

I do as he says, closing my lips around his fingers. My tongue swirls around his fingers, sucking at them as he pumps them in and out of my mouth. The blood coats my mouth, but I taste myself once I've gotten used to the metallic tang. Greyson presses his mouth into my pussy, working it with his tongue once more while fucking my mouth with his fingers. He shoves his fingers so far inside my mouth that I feel like I'm choking, but I hold it together as he slides to my throat.

He's testing me.

I take him, letting him fuck my mouth while he tongue fucks my pussy. My hips roll, drawing out every ounce of pleasure he's delivering. Greyson removes his mouth when I'm close, then comes down on my clit with his hand, smacking it. A sharp pain mixed with an unfathomable amount of pleasure shoots through me, making me gasp and release his fingers.

Greyson's voice finds stability when he says, "On your knees."

I'm desperate, frantic for more of him, so I do as he says. As I'm climbing to my knees, he shoves his dick in my mouth before I'm fully upright. He grabs hold of the back of my head, forcing more of himself into me. The tip of his dick is going down my throat. I lose control, gagging as he fucks my face, which only makes him go harder. Tears roll down my face, and I can't breathe.

I'm fucking drowning, and I love it.