Kayden is right. I should’ve killed him.

Why didn’t I do that, again?

Because I can’t prove him right. I can’t allow him to confirm any of the theories he has about me.

Not him, of all fucking people.

But that ended up with me against a tree. Trapped under him again.

Being touched by him again.

Completely surrounded by him.

Fucking again.

And he knocked my bow and quiver away, so I have nothing to stab him with.

My mask squashes against the tree, and the smell of pine floods my nostrils, but it pales in comparison to his smell.

The tones of wood and amber provoke dark, fucked-up images that visit me in my dreams.

No, nightmares.

Images of him biting and marking my flesh, making me come against his cock. Spitting cum in my mouth and forcing me to swallow.

I’ve thought of killing him every time I’ve seen the dark purple hickeys all over my chest. I even considered just hiring an outsider to do it and then sending me the footage.

But for some reason, that didn’t sound satisfying. Not as much as the fantasy of watching his blood spill on the ground.

Between my fingers.

Beneath my feet.

And I’d stand there, watching those silver eyes turn truly lifeless.

If someone is going to kill Kayden Lockwood, it has to be me.

And yet I didn’t just now.

Not that I couldn’t, because I could’ve in a heartbeat. But I made a conscious decision not to stoop that low.

However, now, I replace myself under his thumb again, and I hate it, I hate that it’s this easy for him to trap me.

But what I hate more is that he has the ability to dissolve every fucking ounce of control I have.

That he can provoke reactions I didn’t know I was capable of.

After the last time, I wanted to blame the drugs, and I did, but the drugs don’t fucking explain why he keeps appearing in my damn dreams.

Or the hard-ons I wake up with on the regular after said dreams.

It’s why I decided to stay as far away as possible.

But he’s here now, right behind me. His large body pushing mine, his rock-hard chest pressing against my tense back. His fingers digging into my nape, squeezing until it hurts.

However, that’s not what’s tilting my head upside fucking down. It’s the way he’s biting the lobe of my ear. His teeth sinking so deep, I think he’ll rip the flesh off.

A ripple of pleasure starts where his lips are, coils in my spine and lands like a ball of fire in my groin.

“Stop,” I grunt, but my voice is muffled by the mask. “That hurts. Fuck.”

“Does it?” He licks the thin skin.

A jolt of electricity rushes through me, tenting my jeans against the tree trunk.

Fuck. No.

“You prefer to be licked here?” His rough voice shoots straight inside my ear and sets my skin on edge.

An uncomfortable yet thrilling edge.

It’s an edge I keep escaping but continue being pushed into anyway.

An edge that messes with my fucking head.

“You wanted my tongue all over your ear, like when Cherry did it?” He flicks his tongue on the shell.

“W-what?”

“You like this, don’t you?” He licks my lobe, nibbling slightly, then thrusts his tongue in my ear.

Sparks of electricity burst down my spine in blinding succession, and I have to bite my lip so I don’t release obscene noises.

The fuck is he doing with his tongue and teeth?

Is it even possible to be so wound up just because of my ear?

And his body pressing into mine.

And him pinning me against the tree.

And his rough voice speaking directly in my ear.

No one has ever brought out this type of intense pleasure from me.

Hell, when Cherry was rubbing herself all over my body, the only thing I felt was a sense of boredom. I waited for any sexual stimulation to take me over as she enthusiastically licked and sucked my skin, but it never came.

And while I’d never admit it, I got a twitch in my fucking pants only after I saw this asshole standing across from me like goddamn impending doom.

But right now, as he sucks and bites and fucks my ear with his tongue, it’s torture. My cock is so heavy, leaking precum into my boxers, I think I’ll burst.

Why do I seem to get instantly hard around him?

That doesn’t make any sense.

“S-stop.” I bite my lip because what the fuck was that stutter about?

“You sure about that?” He slides his hand that’s been on my nape up, pulls away my hood, then grabs a fistful of my hair, tugging my head back against his shoulder blade. “You’re trembling, baby.”

“With rage.” I glare up at him. “And don’t call me that.”

“I think you’re trembling for more.” He slips his finger under my mask and pushes it off, letting it clatter on the ground. “There you are, my little monster.”

His lips pull in a wide smile. One I’ve never seen before.

I thought he was disgusted at my face, so why is he smiling in this unusual way upon seeing it?

How does he even know how to smile that way? I was pretty sure he’s a robot.

Sure, he smiles and grins, but I feel like it’s learned, like mine. Usually, he’s pretty grumpy and strict. He never smiles in class, and he has a domineering aura, so students swoon when he praises their answers, despite his disinterested tone.

He’s never praised me, though.

Not that I want to be praised by the asshole.

“Let me go,” I say in a composed voice.

“You keep saying that, but then you look at me with these eyes.”

“What eyes?”

“Expectant eyes.”

“Creeped out, more like.”

“If you were creeped out, you wouldn’t be itching for more.” His mouth hovers dangerously close to mine.

I tell myself to seal it shut. To not allow him the opportunity to fucking kiss me—or, knowing him, he’s more likely to spit in my mouth.

But then he darts out his tongue and licks my jaw, a rough long lick that sets my skin on fire.

Both my hands are on the tree trunk, fingers digging into the solid bark, arms tensing up so I don’t hump my dick against the surface.

I don’t replace pleasure in this.

Not at all⁠—

A groan rips from my lips as he slides his tongue down my skin. Then his teeth sink into my throat, the bite sharp, sending a jolt of pleasure to my leaking cock.

“Mmm. You do taste good. But only I get to taste you.” He bites again.

And again.

His bites alternate—painful one moment, like he’s marking me, and then gentle, teasing nibbles the next, pulling a soft gasp from me.

“Only I get to put my mouth here.” His tongue flicks against the raw spot, a delicate lick that leaves me breathless.

A suck.

A bite.

“And here.” His lips move to my jaw, my cheek. “Only me.”

He rams his hips into my ass whenever I grunt, his hardening cock nudging, probing, rubbing.

It’s driving me insane because I’m not supposed to replace this hot.

I don’t replace men attractive, so a man dry humping me should be disturbing at the least and disgusting at worst.

And yet my spine jerks with every slide of his clothed cock against my ass. My arms hurt from how much I’m stopping my cock from seeking some pleasure against the damn tree.

He bites my throat again, then his hot lips wrap around the skin and he sucks hard, as if aiming to exorcise my soul.

“Fuck…stop that.” I buck against him, and it’s a big mistake, because his cock grows in size, bigger than I remember, and it turns me delirious.

“Why?” He looks down at me, his eyes all sorts of blown up, like a damn beast. “You let Cherry put her lips all over you while she called you hot and amazing. I’m only erasing her disgusting taste. Put up with it.”

He bites again. Harder.

And I let out a groan, because the pain isn’t serving as a turn-off like it would with most people.

Each bite, each touch, each flick of his tongue hardens my cock until it’s throbbing, and I can hardly breathe through the intensity.

I’m drowning, consumed by the desperate, addictive need for more pain from his teeth, the heat of his breath, and every ounce of suffocating pleasure.

I slam my eyes shut so he doesn’t see what he’s doing to me.

“Look at me.” His order lands on my skin at the same time as his hot breath. “Open those eyes and show me how much I own you.”

“Fuck you,” I mutter as I open my eyes, making sure to glare at him. “You don’t own me.”

“We’ll see about that. God. I love your glares. You feel how hard you make me?”

“That’s because you’re gay and won’t admit it.”

“In that case, so are you. Look at that, more things we have in common, baby.”

“I’m not your baby… The fuck you think you’re doing?”

I tense up when he reaches in front of me and unbuttons my jeans. I’m horrified as my cock hardens at his touch.

At his hand on my abdomen.

How the fuck is something that normally disgusts me now turning me on?

Just how?

Maybe I am broken. I have to be.

The drugs never left my system, and now, I’m trapped with arbitrary feelings and this asshole.

I expect him to fist my cock, but he just lowers my jeans and boxer briefs all the way to my knees.

Cold air bites my skin, but it does nothing to deflate my cock. It’s so heavy and aching, precum is trickling down its length.

And I refuse to act like a fucking teen and hump the tree. That just won’t be happening.

I wait for him to grab my cock and relieve the pent-up pressure he’s caused. That’s the whole point of this, right?

Trapping me, then forcing me to feel pleasure for his sick entertainment. Then it’ll be over, and I’ll go back to shooting arrows while telling myself it means nothing.

But his fingers dig into my ass cheek, pulling it aside. I stare up at him with wide eyes as he looks down at where his fingers are. “I must say. You have a nice ass.”

“Don’t you fucking dare!” I say in a guttural tone and slam my gloved hand on his thigh.

Slap!

I go completely still, my mouth hanging open as a tremble courses through me with startling intensity.

Did this asshole just spank me? Me?

“You fucking—” I try to turn around, but he slaps me again and again. Three times. Each stronger than the last.

I go into momentary shock.

Pain burns in my ass cheek, and it hurts. Like fucking hell. And I wish there was only the pain mixed with rage.

I wish my cock wouldn’t leak so much.

“Shh. Stop struggling. You can’t push me away.” He slides a finger against my back hole.

My muscles tense up so badly, I think I’ll shatter like goddamn glass. “Kayden, I’m warning you.”

“Say that again.”

“I’m warning you.”

“No.” His hot breaths skim my skin. “My name. It’s the first time you’ve said it. I like it.”

“Fuck you, Kayden.”

He chuckles, his lips rubbing against my jaw softly. Affectionately, even, and it makes me confused as fuck. “Love it when you talk dirty, baby.”

“Don’t fucking touch me there.”

“Why? Afraid you’ll like it, too? Mmm. No lube. This is a problem.”

“Wait—” He shoves my head against the tree, but his hand disappears from my ass.

The relief is short-lived, though, because I hear the unbuckling of a belt behind me, and then something harder and bigger is gliding up and down my ass crack.

Apprehension builds behind my rib cage, trickling down my spine in a flood of unease. Painful, fucked up, but also expectant.

I should fight. I can fight. Hell, I can reach into my pocket and call for a horde of guards that will kill him on the spot.

But then again, I’m the only one who can kill him.

And I will kill him.

But there’s this petulant side of me that kind of loves it when I say no and he goes for it anyway.

Because I get off on this, apparently, and he knows it.

He feeds on it, too.

Because neither of us is normal.

“Your hole feels so good, baby.” He makes shallow thrusts against my back hole. “I think I’ll love this.”

“Wait.” I breathe harshly against the tree. “Just wait. Why the fuck do you have to force everything?”

“Because you wouldn’t admit to liking this otherwise.” He grabs my ass cheek as he slides his cock up and down, touching that hot, dry hole as he whispers in my ear, “If it allows you to enjoy this better, think of me as forcing you, taking your will and fight and allowing you no way out just because I love to see you squirm. You can make me your villain, baby.”

It doesn’t entirely work, because a sick part of me I wish I could smother to death is enjoying this.

I hate that part and him, but I close my eyes and murmur, “Don’t fuck me. You do that, and I swear I will kill you.”

“Still apprehensive, I see.” His cock grows thicker as his movements turn more frantic, hotter, wilder. “I won’t fuck you dry. I’m not that much of a monster.”

“You won’t fuck me at all.”

“Yet.”

Slap.

I jerk at the sudden hit, and then his groan follows.

“I love how your ass turns red so fast.” He kneads the skin. “You wear my handprints so nicely. Seeing my marks on you makes me hard. The way you submit to the pain I dish out makes me fucking leak, baby.”

“Stop doing that.”

“Mmm. Keep fighting. I’m close.”

Sick motherfucker.

And yet I can’t stay still. The way he’s rubbing his erection all over me is making me so hard, it’s painful. I want to reach down and touch it. Just once.

Something sticky slides over my hole and I think he’s coming, but then he stops, so it must be just a lot of precum. I hear him spit a few times before he wedges his hand between my ass cheeks, the cool fluids nudging against my back hole.

“Should be good enough.” He circles the rim with his middle finger. “Relax for me. You have to take my fingers before I can stuff you with my cock.”

“Don’t—”

Slap. Slap. Slap.

I grow still, my muscles turning lax against my better judgement.

“There. Pain helps, right?” It almost sounds as if he thinks he’s doing me a favor.

He starts thrusting his finger inside, and all sorts of weird sensations overtake me. Pain. Discomfort. Disgust, even. But it’s for myself because I’m letting him put his fucking finger inside me.

Inside my ass.

“Does it hurt?” he asks.

“Mmm.”

“I love how you hurt for me. How you take all the pain I give you.”

“Fuck…”

“Relax.”

“I c-can’t.”

“You can. Breathe.”

I do, slowly.

“Relax more. Is that all you got?”

The challenge makes me tense up but only for a bit before I bite my lower lip and focus on my inhales and exhales.

“That’s it. You’re taking my finger well.”

“Mff…” God. Why is his praise making me so…horny?

“Fuck, baby. Your hole is so tight. Or should I call it pussy so it doesn’t feel so gay? My pussy is so tight and warm.”

“S-shut the fuck up.”

“You hate it when I call this hungry ass a pussy?”

I bite my lower lip and say nothing.

“Should I call it my fuckhole instead? My fucktoy? Or will you submit to me and let me call your ass whatever I fucking please?”

A strangled noise leaves me. I probably should hate that he calls my ass pussy, as if I’m a woman or something, but I feel a weird sense of submission when he does it. And I kind of…like it.

Am I supposed to like it?

“Tell me you dislike pussy and I won’t say it again.”

I bite my tongue, mostly because I’m scared about the noise that will come out.

“Answer me.”

“Do whatever you fucking want… Ahh.”

My words end on a moan when he sucks on my earlobe as he thrusts his finger slowly, leisurely, and it’s painful. But it’s also pleasurable. Hell, I think they’re one and the same at this point.

“No one’s touched you here, have they? Not fucking Cherry, and certainly no other man, because you’re straight as fuck. Even if you weren’t, you would never allow anyone to have this type of power over you. It disturbs you how much you love this.”

“You damn bastard…fuck you…”

“Talk dirty to me.” He thrusts another finger, and for some reason, this feels easier than the first one. “That’s it. Look at your hole stretching and accommodating me. My pussy is virgin, isn’t it, baby? You saved it for me so I can ram my thick cock inside and stuff you full with my cum.”

My ears heat.

My ears never heat.

But his words are affecting me in ways I hate. Ways that make me hotter than I’ve ever been, and the worst part is that…I don’t hate it.

His fingers there.

In that part no one has touched.

Fuck, I’m falling for it, actually. No longer uncomfortable and more wound up.

“Mmmfuck, it’s so hot inside you. My pussy knows it’s mine. I love how it’s clenching around me.”

“Stop talking to me like that.” I grunt as he pounds his fingers faster.

“Like what?” he speaks against my ear, his words rough and less refined than usual. “Like you’re my new favorite hole?”

“Shut up⁠—”

My words get caught in my throat when he curls his fingers inside, hitting a spot that sends my cock to full fucking attention.

A zap of pleasure rushes through me, like lightning and thunder. A fucking natural disaster that makes my entire body tighten up. I’m leaking like crazy, a whole bunch of precum dripping down onto the ground.

“There it is.” I feel his lips curving against my ear. “My pussy’s G-spot.”

I’m about to curse him, but I can’t, because he hits that place a few more times and then I’m coming all over the tree, my abs.

Everywhere.

He didn’t even fucking touch my cock, and I refused to touch myself or hump the tree.

So the cum that spurts out of me in thick waves is all because of his fingers.

In my ass.

Forget about killing him. I might actually kill myself now.

Thanks for witnessing this fuckup.

“That’s it, ride my fingers as you come for me, baby.”

That’s when I realize with goddamn bewilderment that I’ve been rocking back and forth. Back and forth.

Riding him.

And apparently, I don’t give a fuck, because I don’t stop. I keep going as my balls are dried of every ounce of cum with my cheek against the tree and his tongue in my ear.

The orgasm is so strong, my legs shake, and I’m surprised I’m still standing.

Kayden removes his fingers, and to my horror, my ass clenches around them, strangling the long digits.

I wait for his crude comment about that, but he only parts my ass cheeks again.

My brows pull in a frown, but then I feel large round skin at my back hole.

“No, don’t⁠—”

“Shh.” He wraps his hand around my neck from behind, lifting my jaw with his thumb and forefinger. “You can’t just come on your own.”

“Wait…wait…” I gulp. “Please, don’t.”

I don’t care if I have to beg. I’m not going to let him fuck me. Because he was right, I’d never give anyone that power over me.

It’d make me his bitch. I’m no one’s fucking bitch.

“Fuck, baby. I love it when you beg in that hoarse little voice.” He thrusts his crown against my back hole. “I love how my pussy is puckering up and inviting me inside.”

“P-please…don’t fuck me, Kayde…”

I pause.

He pauses, too. “Jesus fucking Christ, you have a nickname for me already, baby?”

No, I meant to say his full name, but the N got struck in my throat.

“You’re driving me fucking crazy.” He peppers gentle bites along my jaw, my throat, moving his fingers so he can have access. “How can you not let me fuck my hole? Can’t you feel how ravenous I am for you?”

His words strike deep within a fucked-up part in my chest. His voice is rough but his choice of words is softer, almost as if he’s trying to persuade me.

Like it matters for him that I let this happen.

He didn’t seem to care about the rest, but he wants me to let him fuck me.

And that does something to me. Namely, my slowly hardening cock.

The fuck?

Why would I care about the words of a monster?

A literal damn rapist who seems to enjoy debasing me.

He keeps thrusting against my hole again and again, and my cock twitches as he rams me against the tree.

“I’m dying to be inside you, baby. I’ve never been this goddamn crazy about being inside anyone.”

My throat dries, but I whisper, “No.”

“Baby, please?”

“No, come on me, but d-don’t fuck me. I’ll never forgive you if you fuck me.”

He grunts, pushing farther, and I think he’ll just do it.

He’ll fuck me against a tree in a forest.

But then he releases a shattered breath. “All right, I won’t.”

My stomach falls and I refuse to honor the feeling with a description. “Really?”

“Really. Instead, tell me you loved being fucked with my fingers, and call me Kayde.”

“No way in hell…”

“So you want to be fucked? I’m game, baby⁠—”

“I loved your fingers,” I blurt.

“Say it properly.”

“Fuck, I loved…being fucked by your fingers.”

“You did, huh?” His breathing deepens, sharpening, becoming more guttural as he bites my cheek, his inhales peppering close to my parted lips. “You love how I make you come?”

“We didn’t agree on that.”

“Say it, baby. Say you love it.”

“I…love when you make me come.” I wish my voice were mechanical. I really do. But it sounded thick and low.

“Fucking hell, baby. I love your voice.”

He does?

“I thought it was off-putting,” I murmur.

“It’s not when you talk dirty to me or say my nickname.”

I grab onto his arm, turning my head slightly to face him, and he lets me, even though his hand stays wrapped around my throat.

His eyes are dark, so dark, I think I see my reflection in them. A muscle moves in his jaw and I watch it.

Then I replace myself looking at his lips. His glistening parted lips.

Why the fuck am I looking at a man’s lips?

“Come already. Fucking please, Kayde⁠—”

His mouth devours mine.

And it is devouring.

Our teeth clash, the sharpness igniting something wild, and our tongues collide, a chaotic, desperate mess of heat and need.

There’s no control, just raw frenzy and urgent hunger that twists between us in a fevered dance of dominance and surrender.

It’s messy, unrestrained, like a twisted fucking storm that neither of us wants to end.

He bites me and I bite back.

He tugs on my lip and I feast on his.

It’s a war. It means nothing, and I’m only giving him twice as much as what he gives me.

Until I taste something metallic. I don’t know whether it’s his blood or mine, but it makes my cock harden.

And he comes.

Against my back hole, grunting in my mouth.

He comes so much, hot liquid trickles down my thighs, and I feel some of it slipping inside me, and I clench, again, like a fucking whore.

I don’t even have the energy to feel shame as he pulls his lips from mine.

His forehead starts to lower to mine and I headbutt him. “Get the fuck off me and don’t kiss me again.”

He chuckles, the sound vibrating against my throat. “You’re right. This is so gay and we’re definitely straight.”

“I’m straight. I have serious doubts about you.”

He laughs again, reaching for my mouth, and I expect him to spit in it, and honestly, I prefer his dirty side over what he does. Because he just wipes something from my lip. “Loving the hot and cold, baby. Adorable.”

I’m about to headbutt him again, but he steps back, tucks himself in, and kneels behind me. I go to turn around, but he’s already grabbed my hip in one hand, then retrieves the tie that’s been dangling around his neck.

“I can do it on my own. Don’t touch me.”

“Quiet.” He slides the fabric between my ass cheeks, and his handprints burn whenever his fingers brush against them.

“Stop.”

“Don’t push it.” His voice darkens, and even though he’s on his knees, I can feel the domineering energy in waves. “I’m doing something nice for you, so shut up and take it.”

I glare down at him. “You’re anything but nice.”

I expect him to laugh it off and mock me like he always does, but he just stares up at me.

Or glares?

The expression disappears before I can decipher it. “Believe me. I am being nice right now.”

The humiliating feeling of being cleaned up by him dissipates at the cryptic look in his eyes.

It vanishes as he finishes the task and stands up.

A distant scream pierces my ears, and I stare ahead, dumbfounded.

The fuck.

I completely forgot that we were in the mansion’s forest, during the initiation, where it’s buzzing with over a hundred people.

Jesus fucking Christ. How could I forget?

Though the risk is minimal, someone could’ve passed by and seen me come all over my professor’s fingers.

Fuck.

I face the tree and pull my jeans up.

“Lose the girl.” Hot breaths skim my skin, and my fingers pause on the buttons. “Lose all girls.”

I don’t look at him as I release an annoyed breath. “Why the fuck would I do that?”

“I don’t like seeing any of their claws on you.”

“Jealous or something?”

“Territorial.” He wraps his arms around me from behind, sliding his large hands up and down my chest, then tightens his arms around me in a possessive grip. “They’re sullying my beautiful toy with their rancid breaths and cheap presence.”

Give it to this fucker to call someone beautiful and a toy in the same sentence. Why the hell am I even bothered by that?

Still refusing to look at him, I grunt, “Why would I listen to you?”

“If you don’t, I’ll fuck you in front of them, so they know who owns you.”

“No one owns me, least of all you.”

“It’s only a matter of when, not if.” He releases me. “If you don’t want me to pay you a visit every day, unblock me.”

“What do you want from me, asshole?” I ask with frustration as I button up.

“Your everything.” His voice sounds more distant now.

I turn around and my own goddamn devil is gone.

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