Page 22 of Ranger's Secret

"I didn't think you'd turn up," I tell her.

"I wasn't going to."

I don't move toward her and make this easier for her by closing the distance. If she wants this, really wants this, I need to know.

"Remember what I said," I tell her. "This is about me removing your choices. Removing your guilt. This is me controlling you, taking what I want without you having to make a decision you'll regret later."

She takes a shaky breath, and I can see her hands trembling at her sides.

"The only thing I need from you right now is a nod. Tell me you're giving me complete control, and then you don't have to think anymore. You don’t have to choose. Don't have to feel guilty about wanting something you think you shouldn't have."

Slowly, she nods.

"Good kitten," I say. "Now turn around."

She hesitates for just a second, then obeys, presenting me with the elegant line of her back. I move toward her.

When I reach her, I don't touch her immediately. Instead, I let my presence wash over her, let her feel how much bigger I am, how completely I could dominate her.

"You can't change your mind now, kitten," I say against her ear. "You gave me control, and I'm keeping it."

My hands find the hem of her sweatshirt, and I pull it up. She raises her arms without being asked. Instead of yanking it off,I pull the fabric around her eyes, twisting it so it closes off her vision.

"What are you…" she starts to ask.

"No talking," I cut her off. "No questions. When I want you to speak, I'll tell you what to say."

She goes quiet immediately, her breath quickening. I step back and circle around her, taking in the sight of her standing there blindfolded and vulnerable.

Without warning, I bend down and hoist her over my shoulder in one smooth motion. She makes a sharp gasp as I carry her into the forest.

We head deep into the woods, and I eventually set her down where the darkness swallows everything.

“Don’t move. Don’t speak. Don’t touch the blindfold.”

Her breath stutters.

“You stay here for five minutes,” I continue, circling her. “When the time’s up, you can take off the blindfold and run. Make it to the outpost, you win.”

I pause, close enough that my beard brushes her neck.

“If I catch you first?” My hand grazes her throat. “Then I get to do whatever I want to you.”

I press a kiss to her jaw. “Five minutes. I’m counting.”

Then I step into the trees, climbing a nearby pine, settling into the branches high enough to see everything. From here, I have the perfect vantage point.

Let her wonder how far I’ve really gone. Let her feel that silence crawl up her spine. Let her imagine me behind every tree.

At exactly five minutes, she tears the shirt from her eyes, gasping as the darkness hits her full force. She spins, eyes scanning the trees, disoriented and alone in the thick silence.

Then she bolts. No hesitation, no second-guessing.

I let her run.

Let her think she has a chance.

From my perch in the tree, I track every frantic movement. The slap of her shoes against the ground. The ragged breath tearing from her lungs. Her curls whipping behind her like a flag of surrender.

---