Page 83 of Lost to the Woods

She lets out a soft, ragged breath and stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I have. Her lips tremble, pouting, and I want to bite them until they bleed.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” I gesture around us, at the room. “I did all of this for you… For us. So we can finally be together.”

“Oh, my God… You’re actually insane,” she mumbles, shaking her head, her breath uneven.

I slam my fist against the wooden beam above her head, making her flinch. I hate her so much I can barely see straight. I need to hurt her, need to make her understand what she does to me.

“You fucking tease,” I growl. “Parading around in those little skirts, giving me those looks, sending me those texts, acting like you don’t see what you’re doing to me. Do you have any idea how fucking hard it is to breathe around you? How much I hate wanting you? How much I hate you?” I exhale sharply, trying to rein myself in, but it’s impossible. She’s too close. She’s always too close.

And yet, never close enough.

I lean in, my bare chest nearly brushing hers. I drag my hands down the length of her arms, watching the way her skin prickles beneath my touch, so warm from the blood pounding hot beneath. She’s terrified.

As she should be.

Because I’m never letting her go.

“You're mine now, Bunny,” I whisper. “No more running. No more teasing. No more pretending you don’t fucking feel this too.”

Her eyes flicker—anger, defiance, fear. It makes me want to break her even more.

“You can struggle all you want. You can scream. No one's coming for you.” My voice drops to something almost gentle, almost loving. “No one will ever take you from me.”

Her breath stutters, tears streaming down her face now.

I drag my fingers down her sides, tracing the soft dips and curves of her perfect figure, feeling her tremble under my touch. It’s difficult to decide whether I want to worship her or slash her throat—both options are equally tempting. I want to rip her apart and crawl inside, make a home beneath her skin, wear her like my own flesh.

But I can’t.

Because worst of all is that she made meneedher.

So I admire her instead, hungry and obsessive.

The sun is sinking, the room drowning in shadows. Only slivers of dying light cut through the room, painting stripes across her body like she’s already bleeding.

“It’s getting dark in here, no?” I ask without expecting an answer, moving back to the table from where I grab the lighter. “Let’s create some mood.”

The flame flickers to life, and I light a few candles scattered around us. As the wax melts, the scent of vanilla and sandalwood fills the air. The glow licks up the walls, casting long, twisting shadows that dance over her skin.

“There, much better.” I turn back to her. “See, I can be romantic. Isn’t that what you wanted from me?”

Her lips part, trembling, her eyes wide with disbelief.So confused… so fucking cute.

“Now… damn, look at those tits,” I groan, and my hands are on her before she can protest, palms molding to the soft weight of her breasts, squeezing just hard enough to make hergasp. My thumbs rub circles over the stiff peaks, and fuck, she can’t hide the way her breath hitches.

“Baby, you’re driving me crazy,” I murmur, pinching her nipples sharply.

Despite herself, a moan slips out.

I smirk, knowing she can’t see it. But she can feel it—the weight of my obsession sinking into every touch, every breath, every second I refuse to let her go.

“I love seeing you helpless like this, Bunny.”

With a hum, I step back to the table, squeezing lube onto my fingers before grabbing the small butt plug, gleaming in the candlelight.

She watches me warily as I approach, then I press the cold metal to her lips.

“Suck.”

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