Page 35 of Primal Snow

“Please, don’t hurt me,” I yelp, but his hand closes around my throat, the pressure cutting off my air in an instant. I claw at his grip, my nails scraping against his fur-covered wrist, though it’s useless. His strength is overwhelming. He's going to rip me to shreds, and he’s going to enjoy it—I just know it.

He lifts me effortlessly, slamming me down into the snow with crushing force. The adrenaline pumps through my veins, blocking out any pain, so I can’t determine whether he broke some of my bones or not. All I feel is the cold seeping into my back. Before I can gather my thoughts, he’s on me. His claws tear at my clothes, shredding them as though they were made of paper. The sound of fabric ripping is drowned out by his growls, guttural and animalistic. I kick and thrash, my fistspounding against him, my nails raking across his face and chest. Dark laughter rumbled through his chest as he removes my boots, but it suddenly stops as I manage to hit his open wound. He snarls as blood spills onto me, hot and sticky, mingling with the snow and soaking into my bared body. My vision blurs with red—his blood, my blood—it’s everywhere. The metallic tang of it fills my nose and mouth, and I gag, the horror of the situation sinking in. But I don’t care. I claw at the gash in his chest, digging my fingers into the torn flesh in a desperate attempt to hurt him, to make him stop. He hisses, his body twitching with pain, but it’s not enough.

It willneverbe enough.

“I’ll fucking kill you,” I spit through gritted teeth, the words half a sob, half a bark. “I’ll turn you into a goddamn rug and dance on top of it!”

But my defiance is meaningless. I’mnothingcompared to him.

With a feral roar, he shifts his weight, flipping us over so that I’m face-down in the snow. The cold burns against my exposed skin, and I cry out, my voice muffled as my face presses into the icy ground. He rips the rucksack off my back and the remaining fabrics. His claws rake down my spine, sharp enough to sting but not deep enough to draw blood, before they settle on my hips. Then they dig into the soft flesh of my ass as he grabs me roughly, spreading me open.

I thrash beneath him, twisting and jerking in a frantic attempt to escape, but his weight pins me down, pressing me deeper into the snow.

“Stop!” I scream, my voice hoarse and desperate. “Get off me!” I fight with everything I have left, wriggling out of his grip just enough to claw at the ground and push myself forward.

For a second, I think I’m actually getting away.

Then his claws sink deep into my thigh, piercing the muscle as he yanks me back with no effort. His other hand snatches my wrists, twisting them behind me in an iron grip. My breath catches as I realize why he didn’t react right away.

The rope.

He must have pulled it from my shredded backpack, and he’s now looping it around my arms and knotting it with practiced expertise. Then he positions my hips, lifting me on my bent knees with my ass up in the air and my back arched low to the ground.

I sob uncontrollably, left exposed and completely at his mercy. “Let me go. Please… I can’t take this anymore.”

He doesn’t listen.

A shudder rolls through me as he spreads me wider, his cock pressing between my cheeks, the thick, inhuman length prodding at my tiny, untouched entrance, demanding entry. The pain is immediate, and my body clenches instinctively, rejecting the intrusion. He growls in frustration, his claws tightening on my hips as he tries again, the pressure against my little hole becoming unbearable.

I kick my feet against the ground and scream for help on top of my lungs, but it’s no use. He’s too strong, toodetermined. Again and again, he tries, each attempt more forceful than the last. But my body refuses to yield, my tightness an impossible barrier, and I can feel his frustration shift into something darker. His snarl deepens to a furious roar, and I brace myself for the worst.

Thankfully, his raging hard cock slips lower and finds my pussy instead, driving into me with a single, brutal thrust. The sudden intrusion is shocking. Without preparation, his thick, heated length stretches me wide, filling me so completely that it borders on unbearable. My body isn’t ready—too tight, too sore, too cold. I cry out, the sound ripping from my throat and echoing in the stillness of the forest, but there’s no one around to hear it.

He doesn’t stop. If anything, he gets rougher. His anger is palpable, radiating from him like a furnace. This isn’t about pleasure. It isn’t about connection. This ispunishment—a barbaric act of his absolute dominance over me.

The snow beneath me is stained red, our blood mixing together as he ruts into me with savage, unrelenting force. His slick pre-cum coats my constricted walls, easing his assault just enough to blunt the sharpest edges of pain—but never fully. Each brutal thrust drives me deeper into the icy ground, the cold searing against my cheek, a stark contrast to the molten heat of his body above me. My breath hitches as his claws dig into the soft flesh of my ass, holding me open, his grip firm and inescapable. His other hand presses down on the back of my neck, shoving my face into the snow.

I can’t breathe. My chest heaves, and my vision swimsas my head starts to spin. He’s so lost in his need to claim me that he doesn’t realize he’s choking me. Or maybe he does. Maybe he doesn’t care.

Panic flares within me, urging me to fight back, to survive. But even as the edges of my consciousness fray, something deep inside me begins to splinter. The impossible intensity of his pounding—my pussy stretched around his girth, my body immobilized beneath his crushing weight, my arms restrained and useless against his power—sends shockwaves through me. My back arches involuntarily, and a soft moan spills from my lips as my traitorous body betrays me, reacting to his cruelty in ways I can’t control.

I’m dizzy, my head spinning into nausea, and I know I’m going to pass out… but at that exact moment, an orgasm—so sudden, so violent, so all-consuming it shatters me—tears through me like an avalanche, snapping me alive. My inner walls clench tightly around his throbbing length, spasming uncontrollably as wave after wave of electric ecstasy crashes over me. My mind blanks, unable to process the sheer force of it. My overstimulated body writhes helplessly against his ruthless pace as the slickness gushes from me, and the obscene, wet sounds of our joining fill the air.

I barely register his roar above me, a deep, guttural sound that vibrates through my bones, as he rams into me one final time, burying himself to the hilt. The sudden, scalding heat of his cum erupts inside me, flooding me, filling every inch of my stretched core. His cock pulses violently, spilling more and more with every twitch until Ioverflow. I can feel its warmth leaking out, pooling between my thighs, and the sensation is overwhelming—his seed searing through me like a brand, marking me. My vision blacks out completely, the intensity too much to bear as I collapse under him, utterly spent and trembling.

Chapter 17

Something cold and wet presses against the seam of my lips, and I automatically part them. My throat hurts, but the icy water feels pleasant melting on my tongue. Then it disappears, and I feel the ice dragging across my neck, the chill biting into the sensitive skin and leaving a faint, tingling ache in its wake. My breath catches, a soft, startled sound escaping my lips, and I feel the heat of his rumbling growl vibrating through the space between us.

My eyes blink open, and the first thing I see is the cave floor far below. I’m suspended high inthe air again, but this time, my body hangs parallel to the ground. My arms remain bound behind my back, rope cutting into my skin, while shackles encase my ankles. My knees are bent, my body sagging under its own weight, wrists and ankles connected to the same chain above me—leaving me helpless, hanging like a puppet on a string.

My head is pounding, my ears still ringing, but it doesn’t matter now. As I lift my eyes, I notice Yeti holding a huge icicle in front of me. Some-fucking-how, I just know he’s not planning to turn it into ice chips for me to rehydrate.

God, just let him stab me across my chest with it instead of doing what I think he‘s about to do.

The icicle grazes my collarbone now before gliding over the slope of my breast. He circles my nipple with the tip, watching with a disturbing intensity as it tightens, hardening into an almost painful peak. I squirm in my bonds, arching instinctively, the sharp sting of the cold mingling with a strange, unbearable ache.

He doesn’t rush. He moves to the other side, repeating the process with the same measured, torturous care, as he takes in every reaction, every sound I make. My skin feels electrified, hypersensitive to the cold, and a breathless whine slips past my lips. But the sound breaks into a gasp when he grazes the icicle over my ribs and down my trembling stomach.

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