Page 96 of Lost to the Woods

And I hate that most of all.

Before I know it, I kick off my boots and hurdle out the door. My bones snap, the denim of my jeans rips, and even the leather gloves give way ay as my limbs expand. I run through the night, run to get away, to clear my head, but the voices are stillthere. I swear I hear Kendra’s annoying whine as she’s lecturing me.

Even worse, Bunny’s sweet scent still clings to me. There’s no escaping her.

I growl in frustration, the sound traveling, transitioning into a high-pitched whistle that echoes off the mountains.

When I return, the morning sun already bleeds through the cabin windows, illuminating the carnage left behind on the floor. My brothers stir, groaning as they stretch before they leave for the hunt, leaving me alone with her.

Perfect.

Bunny sleeps peacefully, her naked body a canvas of our shared obsession. She will learn to love her cage. To crave the hands that hold her down. To beg for the pain like a trembling little thing, desperate to please. Because she was made to be ours. We’ll rip the defiance out of her with our teeth and claws, fuck obedience into her bones, and tear her apart piece by piece until she forgets what it was like to be anything else.

The sight of her makes my cock twitch—on her belly, with one knee bent, legs spread, and the soft curve of her ass still marked by claws and spanks.

My hands burn to touch her, but I move into the dungeon first. I only grab Shibari ropes off the wall and don’t care that I have no clothes on, not even the mask.

She doesn’t wake as I unlatch the cage door, doesn’t even flinch when I kneel behind her. My fingers trace the map of welts and bruises on her skin, ropes coiled neatly in my other hand. She looks so innocent like this, so fragile. It’s almost too easy.

Her pussy is still swollen, lips puffy, glistening faintly in the light. Red. Tender. Used. I drag my fingers down the curve of her spine, tracing the dip of her lower back, and lower still, her ass flushed and warm under my palm.

She’s so fucking perfect like this, sprawled and vulnerable, her breath slow and even. And she’s so deep in exhaustion that she doesn’t wake, not even when I gather her pink hair in my fist and pull it to the side, exposing the delicate slope of her neck.

I take my time selecting the first length of the rope, running the red, silk-rough hemp between my fingers before I twist her arms behind her back, tying the first knot snug against her wrists. She sighs in her sleep, a soft, broken sound that makes my cock ache.

The ropes come alive under my hands, weaving around her in intricate patterns—cinching her elbows, framing her shoulders, pulling her chest forward until her tits press into the mattress. I adjust her knees, spreading her wider, lifting her ass higher. Every knot is a promise. Every tug is a claim of my possession.

By the time I’m done, she’s a work of art. Bound. Exposed. Completely at my mercy. Looking like a dream spun out of my dirtiest fantasies—innocent on the surface, corrupted just for me underneath. The ropes frame her perfectly, accentuating every curve, every line of her body. She’s my masterpiece, my creation. And she’s all mine.

My cock is already fully awake and throbbing, impatient. I stroke it slowly as I admire her. The way the ropes dig into her skin, the way her cunt is wrecked, the way her asshole is still slightly gaping open from the plug left in her for hours.

I can’t resist.

Leaning in, I drag my tongue over her virgin hole, lapping at her slowly, savoring the taste of her.

Fuck. As sweet as she looks.

I can’t get enough. My hands grip her hips, holding her in place as I spread her with my thumbs. And I devour her like a snack, my tongue working her until she’s squirming against the ropes, her breath coming in shallow gasps. But my tongue spears deeper, greedy, relentless, fucking into her. Her hips roll back instinctively, seeking more even in sleep.

Good girl.

She moans. A soft, broken sound, but it sends a jolt of heat straight to my cock, a bead of precum dripping onto the mattress.

“Does it feel good when Daddy eats your ass, baby?”

She’s too far gone to answer, but her hips twitch, her body responding even as her mind clings to sleep.

My fingers slide across her upturned pussy slit, rubbing her oversensitive clit until she whines. She’s so wet. So pliant.

I spit against her hole, watching the saliva drip down before working my thumb inside, stretching her. She’s still so tight, her body resisting even after everything I’ve done to her.

Fuck.

I grind my cock between her ass cheeks, the swollen, pierced head catching on her entrance, but she’s not ready. Not yet.

“Damn, sweetheart, we need to open you up some more.”

I grab another rope, flipping her onto her back, her arms trapped beneath her. This one I loop around her hips, then upher torso, crisscrossing over her ribs in intricate lacing, pulling tight until her tits bulge between the binds of chest harness. She whines, her back arching, but I don’t stop. Not until she’s perfect.

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