12. 12 Tori

Chapter twelve

12: Tori

I ’m running as fast as I can, my bare feet pounding the ground, each step a sharp reminder of how reckless I am. The heeled leather boots are long gone, discarded in the chaos of my flight—thrown in opposite directions in hopes of confusing Ryder. This could be the first time I actually manage to escape him, if I can pull it off.

In another life, Ryder Hayes could’ve been a hunter, his instincts sharp and deadly, tracking me with the precision of someone who’s already mapped out my every move. It’s like he sees through me, knows what I’m going to do before I even do it. I’m playing catch-up, circling back, hoping he doesn’t notice. While he charges downhill, I’ll be heading back up, taking his bike and getting the hell out of here.

Let’s hope I remember how to ride a bike.

The ground is a minefield of pine needles, twigs, and cones, all scraping my feet raw, but I keep pushing forward. I want to be free. I need to be free—of him, of all of them… I think.

Last night did a number on me. I shouldn’t have let Thorne back in, shouldn’t have believed a damn word he said. But here I am, a fool, letting him waltz right back into my heart like I haven’t learned a single damn thing. Sliding his way back into my bed, too .

Now I’m dreading seeing him again. Dreading his reaction, wondering what it means. What’s changed? Aside from the fact that I saw the Iron Triad nearly rip each other apart, everything else feels the same.

I’m still not safe. Especially not with Thorne. But the real danger? It’s playing these twisted games with Ryder. Now I’m running through the woods like a damn idiot.

I hear him now, his footsteps closer than I realized. My legs are burning, my lungs screaming for air, but I can’t stop. Not now, not when freedom’s within reach.

I spot it—a silver blur among the trees—the motorcycle, escape, salvation. A rush of adrenaline surges as I zero in on it, but of course, I’m not fast enough. Before I can even touch the damn bike, Ryder’s hand is around my neck, pulling me back against him.

“Now, you’re mine.”

Three words, and suddenly, I’m a thousand miles away from freedom. His grip is solid, like he’s marking me, owning me. His other hand finds my waist, trailing down to the zipper of my jacket. I’m still gasping for air, but there’s heat crawling through me, spreading like wildfire, as he undoes the zipper.

The cool air bites against my skin, making my nipples harden instantly. I don’t need to be asked—he doesn’t question, he just takes . And right now, he’s taking me. His hands find my breasts, cupping them roughly, kneading them like they belong to him.

“You know what, KitKat?” he whispers against my ear, but I know he doesn’t want me to answer, not when he’s about to deliver the blow. “You almost had me.”

Almost . The word twists in my gut, a hundred times worse than failure. I almost broke free, but I didn’t. I’m trapped in their web. And the more I fight, the tighter it pulls .

“Tell me—did Thorne really make you feel that good?” His lips graze my neck, sending shivers through me, and despite myself, my pulse quickens.

“He made me feel amazing.” The words leave my mouth without thinking, and I know how they’ll hit.

It’s the truth, but it’s also the wrong answer—because I know exactly what it’ll do to Ryder. And part of me wants it—wants to see that jealousy, that anger twist in him. Maybe because he’ll turn it all against Thorne.

“And if I make you feel better?” His hand moves lower, cupping my breast with more force, spreading warmth deep in my core, making me clench my thighs together.

“I doubt it.” I throw the challenge right back at him, my voice laced with mockery, but the heat in my body betrays me.

“But if I do?” he insists, and I can hear the need in his voice, like he’s searching for a reward. But what the hell else is there to give?

“I don’t know, Ryder. Name it. What do you want?” I let my head fall back over his shoulder as his hand slides down my stomach, slipping into my leggings, finding the mess I’ve already made of myself.

“You,” he breathes against my ear. “All of you.”

“And if you don’t make me feel better than he did?” I press, needing something, anything in return.

“I will,” his voice is a low growl, full of certainty.

“But if you don’t?” I challenge again, mimicking his earlier demand.

“Then you get to pick what you want from me,” he says, smooth and easy, like it’s all part of the game. And a wicked thought starts to form in my mind .

I want to respond, but then his finger is inside me, sliding through the slick heat he’s already made of me, and any words I had die in my throat.

Why do you like this?

My breath shudders as I exhale, the heat still lingering in my body. Last night left me aching in places I didn’t expect. Thorne had been rougher than I anticipated—but it was exactly what I needed.

Now, I'm scared of what he'll say. Of what he'll do. Especially now with Ryder's hand deep in my crotch.

“You seem ready for me, KitKat. Tell me how badly you want me to fuck you.” His voice is low, sultry, a rasp that grazes my ear as he whispers.

His middle finger digs deep inside me, his thumb rubs circling around my clit. My head spins as I try to find my voice, and it takes a moment before any words come out.

“You'd like that wouldn't you?”

I can't figure out why I'm playing these games with Ryder. Maybe I’m tempting fate, daring the devil himself. Or maybe I'm so sick in the head that I want him to fuck me so rough that I cry.

I hate him. I loathe them all. Yet, here I am, soaked through my leggings for him like some kind of psycho. He excites me... all three of them do. It’s a twisted cocktail of fear, lust, and exhilaration that courses through me.

His hand slips away, and I’m instantly deprived of the contact I was craving. I frown at the sudden emptiness, quickly masking the expression before turning to face him. He’s leaning casually against the rough bark of a nearby tree, his gaze sharp, but feigning disinterest—something I know is nothing but a mask .

“I'm not touching you until you say it, Victoria.” He's confident, pulling the joint from his pocket back out, and lighting it with his silver Zippo.

Normally, I can't stand the smell of smoke—it’s a major turn-off. But the way Ryder handles it, the casual ease of his movements, somehow makes me want to try it. My thighs tighten, the need for him pulsing through me, craving the rough release I know he can give, imagining him tearing my leggings apart and bending me over his bike.

Why are you so fucking horny after all the orgasms last night?

It's as if Thorne unlocked some sex-driven animal inside me, seeking out a new thrill. I want to experiment, to see if Ryder—and even Blaze—can give me the same kind of pleasure. And maybe even enjoy watching them argue over who gets to do it first.

My mouth goes dry as I lock eyes with Ryder. His electric blue gaze pierces through me, holding me captive. I want more… fuck, I need more, but my pride won’t let me give in.

Ryder takes slow, deliberate steps toward me, blowing smoke straight into my face. I cough, fanning the sharp, skunky scent away. He smirks, that signature look only he can pull off—like Prince Charming with the devil playing on his lips.

“Say it,” his voice is no longer a request, but a demand—one I’m dying to obey. The joint hangs loosely between his lips as his hands move to grab my breasts, pinching my nipples. For a moment, the pain bites, but then it shifts, turning into something unbearable yet delicious as he rolls the hardened buds between his fingers.

“I…” I mutter a few choice words under my breath, finally giving in. “I want you to fuck me.” I'm irritated by how desperately I crave him.

His eyes flash with satisfaction as he flicks the joint to the ground, extinguishing it with his foot. “Good girl, Victoria.”

Why does that sound so damn pleasing?

His hand grips the corner of my jaw and neck, pulling me closer. I've never kissed Ryder before—not like this. There have been moments, fantasies, but nothing like this.

His lips are soft, but insistent against mine, the pressure increasing as he pulls me tighter. My breasts press against the warmth of his chest through the thin fabric of his white shirt. One of his hands slides down to my ass, his fingers digging in before they move to my thigh, lifting it to hook around his hip.

I'm now standing on the tips of my toes, holding onto him with my other leg, and feeling his erection through his pants right against my aching little pussy. I want him so bad, I'm sure I'm leaving a wet stain on his pants right now.

His teeth suddenly grab hold of my lower lip, nipping at it the way a cat gives love bites. It's different, and not the way I imagined he would kiss, but I find that I kind of like it. He pulls back with my lower lip still in his mouth, letting go after he's stretched it out.

“I'm not Thorne. I won't take it easy on you, KitKat. And I won't stop. Once I start, there's no going back. So, be a good girl and slip out of those leggings for me. You're going to ride me first.” He lets me go, shedding his clothes as he walks towards his bike without me.

I blink way too many times as I admire his tattoos again. Sliding my eyes over his body, I take in the sight of his muscular, naked ass, and when he reverse straddles his bike, I swallow at how mouthwatering his dick is.

Of course he has it pierced. A fucking frenum ladder!

He's waiting for me with a brow arched. “Didn't I say to be a good girl?”

His words snap me out of my daydreaming, hurriedly taking my leggings off and making my way towards him. For the first time in years, I feel nervous about sex. Normally, I'm very confident, or just don't give a flying fuck. But with Ryder, I somehow feel inexperienced.

“Jump on, Baby Girl. Take me for a ride.” He leans back, resting his elbows on the handles of his bike.

I awkwardly climb over, having a hard time as I try to land above his dick. With some help from Ryder—who eventually just picks me up and places me over his cock like it's nothing—I slowly slide his bare dick in, rung by rung.

The way his piercings feel against me is uncomfortable at first, but as I slide further down, all the way to the base of his cock, then back up, I find I rather enjoy the feeling. I know I'm being stupid—fucking him without a condom, but something tells me he didn't bring one. Not to mention, I'm not sure how a condom works over piercings. Wouldn't it just puncture?

Ryder watches me as I jump on his dick, breasts bouncing and ass slapping against his thighs. His eyes give me confidence, making me feel hot all over, like I'm the sexiest woman on the planet.

When his mouth suddenly takes hold of my nipple, I can't help the closed mouth moans that hum out of me. I grind against him, feeling every little ball on his frenum piercing press against the walls of my sore pussy. His strong abs provide the right amount of pressure against my clit to build me further up. When he moves his hips with me, in and out, while I sway mine against him—the feeling is doubled. I'm already getting close, and it's only been five minutes.

I grab hold of his golden hair—feeling how coarse it is from the products he uses—and pull him closer, burying his face into my breast as his tongue flicks around my nipple.

“Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck! I'm going to come!” I yell out into the woods. I have no idea if where we are is a popular hiking trail or not, but at this point, a whole group of people could come, and I wouldn’t care. Let someone walk by. Like Ryder said, he's not stopping, and quite frankly neither am I.

Ryder pumps into me as I stop breathing, spurting his cum with a loud grunt. My walls clench against the little metal rods inside me, squeeze his naked cock tight. He doesn't relent as I climb down, grabbing my hips and forcing me to sway over him so my clit is still being stimulated.

It's sensitive as hell directly after an orgasm, my nipples too, but that doesn't stop Ryder from playing with either one. He wants to keep this going, and so do I. He stands, grabbing my thighs and wrapping them around his torso, staying inside me the entire time.

He lifts me up and down his shaft, going so deep, he's hitting my cervix. I cry out, muffled against his lips as he kisses me, running his tongue against my own. He grabs my lower lip again as he pulls away, meeting my gaze in the most lust-filled way possible.

My hands are locked behind his neck, fisting his hair and bringing his face back to mine. We've been making out for so long, my mouth feels raw, but he tastes so good and feels so nice, I don't want to stop.

He leans me against a tree, scraping my back with the bark as he continues to pump into me. I feel it scratch my skin, cutting, bleeding—but for some odd reason, that turns me on more.

He leaves my mouth puffy and sore, landing his lips on my neck and sucking hard. I know he wants to leave a mark, and normally I would say no to something so tacky, but I want the others to know. I want them to see that Ryder had his fun with me, and I with him.

“I thought you were going to bring me greater pleasure than Thorne?” I taunt him as I get tired of the bark splintering into my back.

The question lights a fire under his ass, but also gets me into trouble. He carries me back to the bike, lifting me up so that his cock slides out before placing me on my feet. He bends me over the metal just below the handles, holding me there as he lifts the seat up to reveal his storage area. He pulls out bungee ties, wrapping one around my wrists and tying them behind my back. Next, he grabs a black, leather collar with a silver chain attached.

“You'll be all mine by the time I'm done. You'll wonder why you ever went back to Thorne,” he promises as he delicately moves my hair out of the way and places the collar around my neck.

It feels degrading until he pulls on the chain while slamming into me, applying enough pressure on my neck that I'm almost choking, but not quite. He's pounding into me so hard, I feel as if the bike might fall over at any moment, but it doesn't.

His balls slap against me with each hard thrust while my ass hits his crotch, echoing through the woods. I'm grunting, moaning… yelling. He's got me on a new high and climbing.

He gives a hard pull on the chain, constraining enough that I stop breathing for one short second, the blood rushing to my head when released. I want to come so bad, but the slap of his balls against me isn't enough to get me there.

I try to move my hips, to find the right spot, but I can't. I realize then that Ryder is denying me my pleasure, getting me close, then pulling it away.

This motherfucker is edging me.

I'm pissed, trying to push off him, but too tied up to do much of anything. I scowl at him over my shoulder, only to hear him chuckle. Next thing I know, his hand comes down hard on my ass—one, two, three times. He then massages it and does the same to the other cheek.

“Mmm, your ass looks better red, KitKat. You want to ask me that question again, or do you want to finally come?” he teases me with that devilish smirk, to which I roll my eyes and mumble my next words .

“I want to come.”

“I thought you might say that.” He pulls out a rose from the seat next, not the kind you grow in the ground, but the kind you find at a sex store. Grabbing the chain with his left hand, he pulls back on it, applying a decent amount of pressure on my neck again. With his right hand, he places the toy over my clit and turns it on while he continues to pump in and out of me. His tongue slides over my back, along my neck, and to my earlobe. “Now, come for me. Scream into the woods.”

He twirls the toy against my clit, pressing harder, and upping the speed. Being edged for too long, it doesn't take but a second for me to orgasm so hard, my legs shake and my voice vibrates as I yell, “I'm coming!”

“Mmmm. You have no idea how good you feel when you clench on my dick. How many times do you think you can come before it starts to hurt?” he asks me as he slides out of me, not moving the toy away from my clit. “Let's find out.”

I hear the excitement in his voice, thrilling me at the promise of multiple orgasms. Ryder finally releases the toy, returning it to the seat, and pulling out a small blanket instead. He unfolds it and lays it on the ground before coming back to me and helping me stand straight. He guides me to the blanket by the chain as if he's walking a dog, and I hate it.

I'm laid on my back, turning the collar so that the chain is held above me. He wraps it around his left hand, shortening the length a bit, and kneeling before me. He takes both my legs and presses them against his chest before entering me again.

He's deeper this time. At first, I think he'll hit my cervix again, but then he kneels on one leg, which tilts his dick to the left a bit, finding a spot I have only ever heard of—my elusive g-spot. I was beginning to think it wasn't actually a thing .

His piercings add to my pleasure as he jackhammers into me with a newfound speed. I'm yelling for him not to stop, to keep going, faster, harder. He listens well, doing just as I ask until my legs are shaking again and I come undone for the third time.

Next, he rolls me on my side, slides one of my legs between his own, and the other over his shoulder, entering me sideways. The rungs of his piercings now slide against the bottom and top rather than the sides, throwing me off for a moment before bringing ecstasy back to my life.

“Yell my name like you did his, KitKat. Yell it louder. Let the whole damn world know you're mine.”

The more I orgasm, the faster I get there, finding my bliss as I yell his name. “Ryder! God, fuck me harder!” And he does. For a whole other hour, Ryder fucks me until I'm shivering all over, almost crying as I come down from my last orgasm.

“My turn,” he announces as he pumps into me a few more times before pulling out and coming on my thighs. He rubs it in with the head of his dick as if it's lotion. “Don't wash it off until I tell you to.”

I nod, because according to our deal, I am now his, and his alone. But if the deal is that I am to be his because he brought me the most pleasure. What's to say Blaze can't bring me to greater levels of pleasure?

Ryder unties me, but to my horror, he only undoes the chain from the collar. I try to take it off, finding there's no way to do so without a key. “You asshole!” I shove him, fully naked, still shaking all over, and hardly able to stand.

“Mine,” he reminds me, grabbing my throat and gripping it tight. He licks my lower lip and then sucks on it, melting me into him. “It's not coming off, Victoria Reyes, because you belong to me. Don't worry, I won't make you call me ‘Daddy.’” He winks at me as he lets me go, shoving me away as he finds his clothes.

I'm muttering the few Spanish curse words I know as I slide my leggings back on over his cum. Ryder drapes a jacket over me, zipping it all the way up, but I realize it's not my own. It's his. He places mine in his storage space before handing me my helmet again. My boots are a lost cause, and I don't really mind. They were extremely uncomfortable and so difficult to walk in.

Ryder drives us back home where we find a police car waiting for us at the gate with Alicia's car right behind it. I blanch, feeling the need to hide. My neck suddenly itches, fully aware of how bad this all looks.

If she hated me before, she'll detest me now.