CHAPTER 4
ISAK
How? How had she managed that?
Of course, the Keppra had made me a little less aware, less perky, even when it came to her, my talisman. My Red.
I flung myself off the couch and sprinted after her, spiraling down the stairs. I leaped off and skidded on a rug. As the steel-and-glass front door swung shut behind me, I was already haring in the direction she must have gone, judging by the crunch of leaves and sway of the undergrowth.
The beach was that way. Why that way? Where did she think she was going? Of course the Porsche was not her answer because the keys were in the bedroom. I’d have trapped her if she’d gone there.
Having her cornered, pinned down on the bed, I would’ve done bad things to her, which made me think of what to do when I caught her. She must be hoping the beach would be full of swimmers or sunbathers, which it might be, but that would not stop me.
She knew that too.
A novel feeling descended, an exhilaration. Her escape and her ability to try to evade me grabbed me by the balls, and I couldn’t manipulate her as I used to, or not at this distance. I hadn’t had this sort of thrill for years – an unwilling victim, struggling under me, wet because she wanted it even when she didn’t.
I had been taking the easy route with Red and had muted her. That did make it easier to use her. It was why I’d done it. My reaction, now, was confusing.
I pounded along the sandy track with my bare feet hurting when I trod on sticks, but her feet would also suffer. I doubted she could outrun me, since Red hadn’t exactly been gyming for years. Neither had I, however mesmers had advantages in the fitness and healing departments.
Once I was close enough… I would have her.
I kept running, and felt that familiar awareness of a susceptible, collectable female draw closer… nearer, until I gathered that tenuous thread of her to myself, and wound it in. I reeled in my catch, made her slow down, and she would not realize what I was doing.
Closer… I could see the sand fly from her running feet as I made a corner.
Closer… I could hear her panting, feel her exhaustion – the air tearing into her lungs, the blur in her vision as she lacked oxygen.
Lucky that I hadn’t been taking her jogging. As if.
Then, I could see her.
With every stride, her dress flipped onto the backs of her thighs or her ass, so that I glimpsed her panties. I drank in the perfect flow and bulge of her muscles, the pump of her arms, the scent of her. I could feel her apprehension, and I regretted not ordering her to go commando. Minus panties I could have watched her cunt get closer.
Those legs striding, thrusting, her little toes clenching at sand, those alone were enough to make me salivate. I would bite those – bite up the back of her legs, and at her toes – even with the sand on them, when I strung her up to a tree, swinging enough to make it hurt.
Not for killing – for I would never destroy my toy – just so I could fuck her and make her squeal.
No rope, asshole. I increased my pace. Damn. Improvise.
No one else was walking on this track. We’d passed zero tourists. Even if they were here, she could not have called for help.
Finally I commanded her to stop even as I shouted the word, “Stop!”
Red braked, bucking forward, her hand plunging into the sand as she stumbled and almost face planted.
I jogged to a halt, dragging in air, smiling for a second before I wrenched my mouth straight. Got my prey. Hell to the fuck, yeah. That pursuit had been some kind of wonderful.
Chasing her had put new blood in my veins.
“Got you,” I murmured while she pushed herself upright from her hands and knees position. “Dust off that sand. Off your legs.” I nodded and she obeyed, still gasping from the run, as was I.
Where to take her? I needed to punish her for this. Now, not later.
Punishment had previously been close to pointless. I could crush her will, effortlessly. This had a logic to it, a reason, and that made my dick harder.
It would be sunset soon. Couples might be wandering this way with guides and flashlights, hoping to see the ocean as the sun went down. Hoping not to get eaten by a stray croc.
I listened for gatecrashers on our tête-à-tête, half-watching the strained fear on her face while I scanned the surroundings.
Then I pointed off-track. “Walk ahead of me.”
After one last pained glance, she obeyed. Ten meters in, I had her stop.
“Panties off. Give them to me.”
Eyes shut, she bent over and stripped them from her ankles. They trailed in the sand as she gave them to me.
I shook off the sand. I could have left it there but was feeling less sadistic than my usual. “Mouth.”
She opened it, but I paused to look. I couldn’t resist the allure of what stood before me, a female I’d had and given to others in every possible combination. Yet this tainted and degraded woman drew me.
Why?
Because. Because sometimes the incomprehensible possesses us. I did not know why. This connection between Red and me simply existed. Nothing I could do would break it – nothing short of killing her.
For days I’d been feeling my way through the correct dosage of Keppra. After only a
