Page 17 of The Wild Man

He continues the trek with his fingers until they graze my opening. He lifts his head to watch my face when he slips a finger inside. I hold a blank expression, giving him absolutely nothing, while on the inside I want to take that finger and shove it up his ass.

His finger goes in to the knuckle, comes back out, then goes back in. After several more slow thrusts of his finger, he pulls it out and holds it up between us. His gaze drops to his finger, a curious look entering his eyes as he looks at the glistening digit.

When he brings his finger to his mouth, I can’t hide the twitch in my brows when he slides it between his lips. He sucks his release from his fingers, his eyes having moved back to me. Something dark and desirous mixes with the blackness in them.

He pulls his finger free and moves it back between my legs, this time adding a second one. He does the same as he did before; sliding a finger inside a few times before pulling it free. Only this time, he doesn’t bring it to his mouth, but to mine.

I press my lips together determinedly. His brows drop into a scowl, irritation tightening the lines on his face. He reaches up, grabs a handful of hair, and forces me back to my knees. My head is pulled back so far, I have no option but to open my mouth.

And of course, he takes advantage by slipping his fingers past my lips.

The taste of him is not what I expected. I’ve had men come in my mouth before, and while I’m not a fan of the taste, it’s always been just on this side of tolerable.

Wild Man’s though, it’s not the salty bitterness that I’m accustomed to. It’s both, but not as strong and there’s something else. Almost something that has a hint of sweetness.

If I were to be honest, I’d admit that it doesn’t taste bad. That thought has me wanting to spit every drop back into his face.

Wild Man’s eyes heat and flare as he slides his finger over my tongue. I debate biting his finger or at least threatening him with it again, but it got me nowhere last time, so it would be a waste to do it again.

So I give him what he wants and suck his finger until he’s satisfied.

six

Everlee

I sit with my knees drawn to my chest and both arms wrapped around my legs. I’m not sure how much time has passed, but it’s been at least a couple hours since Wild Man got done with me. I can still taste him, despite having rinsed my mouth with water.

I eye the opening of the bed area, where Wild Man threw the cloth I was using earlier.

Once I had sucked his finger to his satisfaction, he pulled it from my mouth and slipped it into his. The whole time he watched me, and I know he was analyzing my reaction, which I find strange. Why would he care how I felt about what he was doing when he didn’t care he was hurting me while he was raping me?

I made sure to keep my expression vacant. Afterward, I was forced back several feet when he got up from the log. I was grateful our time was over and reached for the cloth that had been yanked from me.

However, before I could even put it around my shoulders, it was again pulled from my hands. He stalked to the bed area and threw it inside. I shot him a glare and got a glower in return. Since then, I’ve been sitting on a piece of burlap trying to come up with an escape plan. So far, I’ve come up with a whole damn lot of nothing. At the moment, the only chance I have is my family. As I promised Dad I would, each night before I went to bed I called him.

Until last night.

I have no doubt Dad and my brothers are already out looking for me. The only problem is, they’re looking in the wrong place.

The last time I spoke with him, I told him I was in the northern part of the Black Ridge National Forest. And at the time, I was, and had been since I started this venture. But yesterday morning, I decided to go in a different direction since the area I was in hadn’t shown any signs of Wild Man. I’m in the most southern part. I was going to call Dad last night and tell him of the new location, but never got the chance. So, even though my family is looking for me, they’re nearly seventy miles away searching in an area I’m nowhere near.

Black Ridge is seventy square miles, expanding between two states. It could take them months of searching before they find me.

I could kick myself for making the sudden change to my plans without telling someone. If I make it out of here, Dad and my brothers will never let me live it down. I’ll be lucky if they even let me leave the house again.

And poor Rika. I know she must be worried just as much.

I tighten my arms around my legs, feeling the friction of the rope rub against my ribs. The other end is tied to a tree. Like I’m a fucking dog.

Wild Man sits on the same log he was before. He’s sharpening the end of a stick with a wicked looking knife, bringing the end to a point. Probably to stab unsuspecting animals for dinner.

My mind whirls with ways to get my hands on the knife. Even the stick will do. I just need something I can use against him.

I let my gaze drift over the man. His blue-black hair is long and thick enough to make most women envious. It hangs halfway down his back in soft waves with a few strands falling over his shoulders. His beard is thick and full, but not long. His face is narrow with a straight nose, high cheekbones, and full lips so red it almost looks like he’s wearing lipstick. His tanned shoulders are broad, his biceps thick with defined muscles, and his torso is stacked with dips and valleys before it leads down to a tapered waist. The V just above the cloth is deeply pronounced.

From the outside, the man appears to be in excellent condition.

It’s his mental state that’s questionable.