Page 43 of Lost to the Woods

“Yours,” I whisper, too intoxicated with him to argue.

“That’s damn right. You fucking belong to me, do you understand?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

He crawls up my body, planting wet kisses on my belly, then higher, across the underside of my breasts. When he takes one nipple into his mouth and sucks, hard and greedy, I cry out, back arching, offering him more. His mouth moves slowly, lips gliding up my throat in a molten path that makes my skin tingle.

Then, he bites.

Not hard enough to hurt—but firm enough to claim. My breath catches, hands clutching at his solid pecs, nails digging in. He lingers over the stinging spot, tongue flicking out, soothing it with a tender kiss that only makes the heat bloom deeper.

I just know he’s left a mark. A warning. A promise. A fucking brand.

And I want it.

His sweatpants rub against the burning heat between my legs—rough, soft, warm—and I drape my legs over his waist. His face hovers above mine now, his silver chain dangling in the space between us in the slow tempo of his rocking hips.

“Now, was it that scary?” he asks, pressing his lips to mine and kissing me deeply, letting me taste myself on his tongue.

He’s not talking about the shadows or weird noises. He’s talking aboutus. What I confessed on the porch. How him being a Dom freaks me out.

“No,” I respond honestly, though I know he’s taking it easy with me. “But this is…” I reach down.

His cock is hard, thick, and throbbing through the fabric. And he’s so big, I have no idea how it can possibly even fit.

He chuckles raspily. “See what you’re doing to me?”

I slip my hand beneath the waistband and find velvety skin, hot and slick with precum and little metal bumps of his piercings running along the underside. I wrap my hand around his girth, jerking him slowly as my thumb flicks the hoop ring, collecting more moisture leaking from the tip.

“Fuck!” he groans into my chest, his hips twitching against my palm, and I almost come again just hearing him lose control.

I smile through my daze, but then—

BANG.

A loud crash. Hard. Right against the window.

I freeze with my hand still around his cock. There was no sound of glass breaking. But I’m terrified to look, half-expecting to see the huge, hulking figure standing next to the bed.

“Shhh.” His fingers slide between my legs again, slow and experienced, already drenched in my juices. “You’re wetter now,” he says with dark delight. “Scared little bunny. Your body loves it, doesn’t it?”

I whimper as he presses deep. I shouldn’t be turned on. I should be running. Screaming. Calling for help. But his hands, his mouth, his voice—it all drags me back down into him.

“I’m the only thing here,” he murmurs, kissing me again. Deep. Possessive. “Nothing else matters. You understand?”

I nod, dazed, trembling. His fingers move, stroking slow and sinful, and something in me breaks open. The fear… doesn’t vanish, but it twists. Turns into heat. Into obedience.

“You’re safe,” he lies against my mouth, “just sleep now.”

I don’t mean to close my eyes. My eyelids feel so heavy, though. And I do.

But I swear, right before I fall under, I hear that cryptid whispering.

12. Ghost

The house is quiet. The early morning light seeps through the blinds, pale and thin, barely touching the tangled mess of sheets. Nobody’s awake yet. I don’t think anyone got much rest last night. The activity was strong enough to spook everyone.

And,well, Bunny was loud.

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