Page 10 of The Wild Man

“Mine.”

One moment I’m standing on my feet ready to start fighting the brute tooth and nail, and the next, I’m up in the air hanging upside down. The move is so sudden and shocking that I’m stunned immobile. It only takes seconds to realize the asshole has tossed me over his shoulder.

“Put me down!” I yell, balling my hands into fists and whacking them against his back. His bare ass is right in my face, and I’m tempted to bite the fuck out of it. It’s almost funny that I thought about biting his ass earlier in a more carnal way. “Let me go!”

I get a stinging slap on my butt for my efforts. The action was meant to get me to stop beating against his back, but it only fuels the angry fire building inside me.

I buck my body in an attempt to throw myself from his shoulder, but it doesn’t work. One of his thick arms wraps around the back of my thighs, and I get another smack on my butt. This one much harder. I cry out at the sharp sting.

I dig my nails into the globes of his asscheeks so hard I’m surprised blood doesn’t start flowing. Two can play this game. He hurts me, I hurt him in return.

I get my wish to be let go a moment later. Only it’s not in the way I wanted. I’m tossed down on a surprisingly soft pile of blankets, which thrusts me into a new nightmare. This one more potent and chillingly disturbing.

Before I have a chance to scramble from the bed, Wild Man is on top of me, wedging his hips between my legs and settling himself down until his chest is pressed against mine.

“What in the hell are you doing?” I ask, trying to keep myself calm. I push against his chest, my nails biting into the hard muscles.

My wrists are captured again with one of his hands and brought above my head, where he slams them against the blankets. I buck my hips, but I stop immediately when I feel the hard ridge of his erection.

Holy hell. He’s fucking hard. That does not bode well for me.

I have got to find a way out of this situation before it gets out of hand. Before Wild Man does something that can’t be undone. Fighting and yelling isn’t working, so I try something else.

Relaxing my muscles, I hold still, going lax beneath him. From the way his eyes narrow, Wild Man seems suspicious of my capitulation.

“Hey.” I keep my voice soft.

Wild Man stays quiet, but his head tilts to the side. I try to pull one of my hands free, but he doesn’t let go.

“Let me go,” I say quietly.

The muscles in his jaw bunch and his left eye twitches. “Mine,” he repeats what seems like the only word in his vocabulary.

I shake my head slowly. “No.”

“Mine,” he growls.

If I never hear that word again, it would still be too many times.

Frustration tries to outweigh my limited patience, and it takes effort to push it away.

It all goes to hell, and I know I’ve lost when Wild Man’s eyes drop to my chest and something else altogether fills the blackness.

Pure, raw lust. And it scares the shit out of me.

Looking down, I mentally groan when I notice my shirt has been pulled down in my struggles and is showing off the top part of my purple sports bra. I’ve always thought my breasts were my best asset. Big, but not overly so. Perky, but not to the point where they sit right below my chin.

Right now, with my cleavage playing peek-a-boo, I wish I was one of those girls who complains about being flat chested. My firm Cs are not working in my favor at the moment.

“Hey!” I say loudly, digging my booted heels into the back of his legs, hoping to get his attention away from my boobs. “Eyes up here, buddy!”

He scowls when he focuses back on my face. With his eyes still locked with mine, as if daring me to try and stop him, the hand not holding my wrists lifts and his fingers curl into the top of my shirt. I know what he’s going to do before I hear the rip of material. He yanks and the shirt rips as easily as if it were paper.

“Stop that!” I yell, and once again, it falls on deaf ears. Or rather, he hears me, he’s just choosing to ignore my demands.

I start bucking in earnest, adding my feet to the mix. I’m wearing heavy hiking boots, so I know the jabs can’t feel good against his legs, but it’s like I’m not even doing anything to him. My wrists are starting to turn raw from pulling on them so much, and I know I’ll have bruises later.

My ruined shirt gets tossed to the side and Wild Man immediately reaches for the front of my sports bra.