Page 70 of Lost to the Woods

And still, I can’t stop soaking for him—even as my body trembles in fear, even as the shame eats me alive. My cunt pulses, slick and needy, pleasure coiling tight in my gut like a fuse about to blow.

God, he feels so damn good inside me.

Too good.

Ghost rams into me harder, and his hand clamps around my throat.

I gasp, choking, eyes rolling back as black spots explode behind my eyelids.

“Mine,” he snarls. His fingers squeeze, stealing my breath, my voice, my thoughts. “Say it.”

His cock pounds into me, deeper, faster. My body writhes, caught in that edge between euphoria and obliteration.

The pressure on my throat sharpens as his grip tightens, cutting off sound, cutting off everything. My limbs twitch as stars bloom behind my eyes like a dying supernova.

“Say it, baby,” he commands again, but his voice is somewhat softer… if I didn't know any better, I’d say it’s almost desperate. Like he needs it. Needsme.

I choke, barely able to speak, but my lips part, and I whisper it out like a curse, like a prayer. “I’m yours.”

Ghost groans—a sound torn from his chest, raw and primal—and I cum hard, body locking up, clamping down on his shaft, feeling every barbell pressed up against me. Pleasure rips through me like lightning. My back arches. My toes curl. My fingernails rake through the dirt. And my pussy spasms around his cock, milking him, dragging him with me into the abyss.

He slams in deep one last time and shudders, his hips flush against my ass, as hot, thick release floods into me. I feel it spill inside, filling me to the brim and overflowing, dripping out between our bodies in a wet, obscene mess.

For a split second, everything goes still—just heat, ragged breaths, and the filthy aftermath of ruin.

Then, something moves next to my head. A surprising weight presses against my forearm, firm and padded, yanking me back from the orgasmic haze. My other wrist is intimately tangled… in something soft like a velvet rope.

“Ours,” I hear a low purr above me.

My eyes open in horror.

A mountain lion.

Except, it’s not an animal. Not quite. It stands upright, with a humanoid body, its eyes shine, full of awareness. Its clawed paw is massive, pressing my arm into the dirt. Its long, furry tail wraps around my wrist, restraining my other arm.

And holy shit, it has a cock.

Barbed. Thick. Emerging from its sheath, dripping precum from a pointed tip. The scent hits me—raw, musky, alien.

I struggle, being held down, but there’s more movement around me. And suddenly, I’m surrounded by more creatures, all breathing heavily and drooling, half-human, half-beast. A wolf. A bear. And… a bison?

My scream doesn’t even make it out of my mouth before the world goes black.

18. Bunny

The first thing I notice is the heat.

Thick and oppressive, it clings to me from all sides, the kind of warmth that comes from living bodies. The air is heavy with the scent of musk, fur, and something wild, something male. My skin is damp with sweat and saliva, my hair sticking to my forehead, my thighs slick with blood and…oh. I try to move, but my limbs feel heavy, like they’re weighted down—maybe I’m restrained, or maybe I’m just too weak. My head swims, my thoughts sluggish, as if I’m surfacing from deep water.

Where am I?

The last thing I remember is the woods—the trees looming, creatures above me, and the darkness swallowing me whole.

Now, there’s only blackness. Pitch-black, suffocating.

And the sounds…

Dear God, the sounds.

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