Page 8 of Stranded
Her throat bobs. “But we won’t be stuck here for months, surely?”
I fucking hope we are. I hope we’re stuck here together forever, as her leaving isn’t an option. “It’s possible but unlikely.”
She pales, shaking her head. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“If you don’t get inside right now, I’ll carry you over my shoulder.”
She considers arguing. I see it in her eyes, but she gives in and turns around, heading for the cabin. Her hips sway in the tight jeans she’s wearing, making my cock throb. If I don’t get inside her before Christmas Day, I’ll go crazy. That’s in less than a week.
I know I can’t control myself around her for much longer, and she’s only been here twenty-four hours. Her presence is stirring up parts of me that I thought were long buried. But for our sake, she needs to follow my rules. Because in this wilderness, I’m the law.
The limited light up here in the winter is already gone, so I head back toward my cabin. I pace around like a caged animal. I know she’s in there alone, and the thought distracts me.
I try to keep busy, cleaning my guns, sharpening my knives, anything to keep my hands busy. But the image of Ivy with her thighs spread, and that dildo slamming into her cunt keeps flashing through my mind. It’s driving me insane, making my blood boil with a hellish concoction of lust and possessiveness.
I stand and walk away from the workbench in my garage and grab one of my masks off the wall, an old tactical mask that’s seen more than its fair share of blood and violence. I remember every heist, every fight, every life taken. I’m not proud of my past, but it’s a part of me. No matter how far into Alaska I go, I can't escape it.
Slipping the mask on, I enter the chilly night air and walk to Ivy’s cabin. Night has descended, and the moon casts long, ominous shadows across the snow. It’s been a while since I’ve felt this alive. I clench my fists and stride toward her cabin.
As I approach, I can see her through the window sitting on the sofa. She has her legs tucked beneath her as she reads a book. The moment my eyes are on her, I’m harder than steel. I pull my cock from my pants and fist it, groaning as the cold hits me, but nothing can put out the fire burning within me.
I continue watching her, my gaze relentless and unwavering. And then she senses me, just like she did the night before when she gave me a show. She glances in my direction, but she won’t see me. I’m too shrouded in the surrounding forest's shadows and covered by night's darkness.
On the other hand, she’s illuminated like the angel she is. And I groan as she suddenly uncurls her legs and spreads her thighs wide for me. This time, she’s being more instinctive as she pushes the hem of her nightdress up to her hips and then slides her fingers inside herself, letting her head fall back on the sofa.
“Fuck, Ivy,” I groan, my voice a raw whisper in the darkness, audible to no one but myself. “Look at you so ready, so eager.” My hand works my cock, matching the rhythm of her fingers as they plunge into her soaking wet cunt.
My voice drops lower, a husky whisper that would be audible only to her if she were beside me. “That’s it, Ivy. Finger that sweet cunt of yours,” I utter into the darkness. “Imagine those are my fingers, angel. Pushing in and sliding out. I’d make you squirm, make you moan. You’d be a writhing, begging mess.” My hand continues stroking my cock, the pace unrelenting.
My free hand clenches, the icy air not cooling the fire within me. “You have no idea what I’d do to you if I was there with you right now,” I growl.
Ivy’s back arches as she pushes herself over the edge, her cunt squirting as she releases.
Fuck.
The sight is all it takes to tip me over the edge. And I shoot my load onto the snow beneath me.
“Shit,” I growl as I stuff my cock back into my pants before the cold gets to me. It’s stupid to climax like that outside in this weather. I’m a creature of impulse, of primal instinct, and right now, every instinct is screaming for her. I turn away reluctantly, marching back toward my cabin.
The cold air of the Alaskan wilderness is biting against my skin, but it’s nothing compared to the inferno blazing within me. The image is seared into my mind. Ivy is consuming every shred of self-control I have left.
I can’t deny it anymore. I want her. I need her. And I won’t stop until I have her.
IVY
The cabin is awash with the faint glow of the dwindling fire in the hearth, casting long, monstrous shadows across the floor. I curl tighter into the armchair, feeling vulnerable alone in the massive log cabin.
The silence is deafening, broken only by the occasional pop and crackle from the fireplace. My heart thuds in my chest, each beat echoing the raw desire that Maddox has ignited within me. I fight the urge to touch myself, to give him another ‘show.’ His absence in the window doesn’t mean he’s not watching. I sense he’s always watching.
His aloofness during the day contrasts sharply with the raw desire that drips from him at night. I’ve been here four days now, and the past three nights, I’ve put on a show.
I yearn for more. I yearn for Maddox's touch. The Christmas lights twinkling merrily on the huge Christmas tree mock the tumultuous emotions brewing within me.
Despite the never-ending nights, I can’t help but admit that Maddox is the highlight of each of them. He's a craving I can’t satisfy. And as the snow continues to fall outside, blanketing the world in hushed silence, keeping us here together. I find myself wondering if I’m stranded or if I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
My best friend, Aliyah’s, ringtone—Count On Meby Bruno Mars—echoes through the cabin. The familiar melody tears through the silence, pulling me from my thoughts and offering a brief respite from the tension that’s been my constant companion since I arrived. Aliyah and I have missed each other's calls ever since I dumped Preston. And finally, we can talk.
“Hey, Aliyah!” I answer.