both needed it.

I matched him. It was a twisted thought. I loved the chase, loved him forcing me, loved the rough, insane fucking when he pinned me down in the bed at the house. My dirty smutty fantasies.

It was only when he disregarded my sanity and safety that I hated him. Maybe this could work? Us, together.

When I reached the rock, he shoved me onto it, splaying me out, kicking at my ankles underwater. He covered me with his body and slid his cock along my slit, never quite inserting it.

“What a slippery cunt you have.”

“What big teeth you have, sir.”

He laughed.

“What poor aim too.” I wriggled to get him in me, and I failed.

“Tsk-tsk. Naughty Red.”

He pressed on me with his bodyweight until moving was on his terms. My clit found itself squished onto rock. If he fucked me really hard, it would suffer.

And I would likely come in seconds.

He ground on me down, up, down, crueler, harder. I sobbed shamelessly.

“I can tell… that feels good.”

I whisper-moaned a yes.

“You are such a slut. Here.”

His cock slipped into me an inch, less maybe, but enough to raise my hopes.

I wriggled and whimpered in gratefulness. I opened my legs wider to let him have what he wanted.

More.

“Should I tie you to a tree and fuck you upside down, or this here?”

“Here. Please.” I wormed my ass again, but he kept teasing, taunting, entering a fraction and withdrawing. My pussy throbbed, ached, and I tried again to make him enter me.

The water sloshed and gurgled by, washing away my wetness.

“Uh-uh.” He grasped a handful of ass and crushed it. “No.”

The weight of him was mind-blanking, inescapable.

His hand remained in my hair, and he nudged me onto tiptoes then finally speared into my entrance. Forcing his way in, relentless, splitting me.

“Oh. Ohhh. Fuck!” I moaned and tried to flatten myself to the rock, but he dragged my head higher. My breasts were squashed with every thud onto my butt.

“More?” He stopped deep within, and I spasmed onto him.

“God. Yes.” Any second now and my pussy would have mapped out every contour of his throbbing member. I bucked, futilely.

His bite on my back felt muscle deep, and he hung on with his teeth as his cock pistoned in and out. Arousal climbed with every penetration, with the grind of body, the liquid press of our joining, the thrash of water.

Our breathing coarsened.

“I want—”

“Quiet.” His hand covered my mouth, then both his hands found my throat.

I closed my eyes, thrown into minor ecstasy by that alone. I tried to arch, but there was little room for me to maneuver. Warm rock teased my nipples.

My throat was used for leverage and for possession. My fantasy of struggling to escape was subsumed, dominated, and destroyed by this, a far better one.

The next thrust pounded me onto the rock and maybe into rock, and whether it was a mesmer command or my clit worshiping that boulder, or those hands, I shuddered into the savage peak of an orgasm. While my fingers clawed for nonexistent holds, I was coming, and he was thrusting once more and filling me, and his hands… fuck me… they were tight on my neck.

Never let me go.

Spent, I tried to suck in air despite his body flattening me.

The Incredible Bulk would be lighter, I decided, groaning and reaching up to touch his fingers. They loosened, and he rose from me a little, though he remained inside me. His hands rested over my shoulders, barely holding me in place.

Breathe.

While we recovered, he sat in the water with me and cradled me to him. No words, but he kissed my hair and held me. With one ear in the water, the world hushed and rocked me. My skepticism over who he was and what he could make himself become was fading with every heartbeat, every breath, and I knew he was no longer the evil man he once was.

“Thank you,” I said quietly.

His chest shook in silent laughter. “No problem. I think I liked it too.”

I smiled to myself. My thanks had a deeper, sobering meaning, but I wasn’t saying it out loud.

The quiet sounds of the Australian bush vanquished the noise of my thoughts, my hopes, and my worries. The creak of insects and musical trill of water, the cows lowing and ripping at grass, and that huge open sky above.

Other possibilities remained. I wanted to leave him. I didn’t want to. I nestled my head into his chest. Like a children’s rhyme I counted, eenie meenie miney—

“You think you’ve succeeded in making me human?” he murmured.

Ahhh.

That woke me. I held my breath, while deciding whether to say this, and while I thought his fingers combed through my waterlogged hair, wriggling through knots, soothing me. My eyelids lowered halfway, and I watched sunlit motes of dust skim the surface of the water. This was one of those things that made me wonder if saying it would wreck everything and make it not come true.

Finally, I nodded.

“Hmmm.”

I wasn’t sure what his hmmm meant. Acceptance, I guess.

The water swept by, washing us, and when we were cleaner than clean, he patted me and said, “Come. Let’s go pack.”

CHAPTER 19

ISAK

How close I’d come.

I remembered that second when I had taken my hands from her neck and flexed them.

My fingers were huge compared to hers where she had them laid out and splayed on the rock. Red was panting from her climax and thoroughly spent.

I had a problem.

With both hands at her neck and her orgasming on my cock, I’d struggled with darker needs.

To push her under the water and hold her there until the bubbles left her lips and died

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