Page 22 of Knot Your Rebel

A wicked chuckle lifts to the sky behind me. “Run, little mouse.” His voice is cold and deadly, he’s slipped into a primal mode where he is the ultimate predator, and I am his prey. My body comes to life, fight-or-flight flashing into my vision. Dark dreams have plagued me all my life, thoughts running rampant with no regard for anything.

Some of the things I think about are sick and twisted. Like… What would it feel like if he truly was a stranger? If this wasn’t a game? Would I fight him? Well, I guess technically he is a stranger, right? I squeeze my thighs together because the fucked up part of my mind can’t stop hyperfocusing on the idea - someone chasing after me, dragging me to the ground in the mud, covering my mouth with his hand and leaning forward to whisper dirty, fucked up things into my ears as he then proceeds to invade my pussy with his fat cock. How would the sweet burn of his knot as he shoves into me feel without permission?

I look at the woods and remember that I’m a fucking coward. Everyone knows this is the part in a horror movie where someone goes, “Whatever you do, don’t walk into the woods. The things that sneak around in the night will take control of you and not let go.” And of course, you stupidly do it anyway. And what do they find? You, dead, lying on the ground with your eyes open, staring blankly into the sky with a hole in your chest where your heart should have been.

The moonlight shines upon the ground, highlighting the dark red blood droplets from the animal who just ate my heart right out of my body.

My omega vulnerabilities are starting to lay waste to alpha predation. Without thinking, I’m sprinting the rest of the way through the yard and into the unknown darkness before me. Luckily, I’m in pretty good shape, which helps me in this situation.

I duck under a tree and keep running, only to realize that one of my tits has popped out of my bra and is currently doing the chicken dance on my chest. Clearly, my bra was not supportive of this chase. As I run, I try to shove it back down into the cup. I can’t stop. Not yet.

I imagine him in a crouch, gently walking across the ground, silent as he stalks me. A tingle runs up and down my arms. Is he watching me right now?

I lie in wait, listening for any telltale signs that my mystery guy has given chase. The leaves whistle, breathing an ominous tune, and the sky sits pitch dark without a cloud in sight. There’s a soft breeze blowing around my shoulders that licks against my skin with each taste. Every time my foot kisses the ground, it's all I can hear; the crunch, crunch, crunch of my shoes over the stale leaves beneath me. My pulse roars through my ears, and my soft panting breaths sound more like screams.

It won’t take long for him to find me. He’s an alpha, and they have superb hearing and scenting capabilities. I squint, looking between the trees, trying to spot any type of movement, but my eyes aren’t that great in the dark.

A part of me feels shame for my deep, dark desires. No one really wants to be chased, right? Is it just my sick mind? Spending the majority of my time with Nova’s parents when I was a kid has me questioning things. They were always so conservative, so… normal. I know my best friend has a kinky side based on the conversations we’ve had throughout the years. She loves freely and doesn’t care what other people think of her decisions. I freaking wish I had that luxury, but growing up as a Davis didn’t afford me that.

My lungs start to burn the more I run, and I decide I really need to stop. How can I fight back when I’m out of breath? Seeing a large tree behind me, I head towards it, but then realize there’s a barn back here instead. Why is there a barn in the middle of the woods? Nope, nuh uh. I am not going in there. Running in the woods? Totally justifiable. Running into a barn and getting killed? I’d be the world's biggest dumbass.

Again with the damn horror movie thoughts. The soundtrack of Jaws starts up in my mind. Duh dum, duh dum, duh dum, duh dum…. My heart ticks up another notch, blood pumping oxygen furiously to all my organs.

Instead of going into the building, I creep around it. Another large tree stands before me, and I sneak behind it, peeking out every once in a while to make sure I haven’t been seen. Which, in hindsight, is probably exactly how he found me.

Intentional footsteps head my way. Flight is kicking in again, and I’m thinking about running. Spinning on my heel to move, I find myself caught up in those topaz blue eyes, although right now, his pupils are blown with need as he flings pheromones out into the space around us. Closing my eyes, I inhale, letting the scent of him flow into my lungs and give me life.

He stalks towards me before leaning in and whispering in my ear, “You made it way too easy on me, little mouse.” My stranger nips at my neck, and goosebumps engage their battlegear, lining my arm like a tiny army.

His chuckle is deep, dark, so low that I’d say he’s possessed. It curls around my body, palming my core, and threatening to tie me down; to bring me to heel.

“Are you wet for me?” I shake my head, unable to find the voice to speak. “Do you want to be punished for that lie, sweet thing?” Biting my lip, I admit it. I want to be punished. I want him to utterly and unequivocally consume me; wreck me.

We stand there for a long few minutes, just breathing each other in. His pheromones curl into my nostrils, and I close my eyes, simply breathing him in. The scent of white chocolate fudge has me craving the sweet treat like candy.

There’s a weird connection between us. It’s threadbare, and the longer we stand here, the more tense it gets, pulling from itself.

His hands go to the buttons on his pants, and I can immediately tell the thoughts in his mind. It’s why I take that brief moment and take off again, tearing around trees, not caring if he can hear my footsteps. It’s thrilling. The idea of him chasing me because he wants me so bad that he can’t wait until we get back. He needs me now, worn down with the desire to fuck a perfuming omega.

I can’t hear anything outside of my own footsteps. Maybe he stopped searching. Maybe he decided that catching me isn’t worth it when there are so many other eligible ladies back in that basement. The thoughts of self-criticism wear me down into believing that he is no longer chasing me. I stop running and turn to make my way back towards the house when I suddenly find myself falling to the ground. A weight hitting me in the chest so hard that it steals the wind from my very being.

He rises up above me and whispers, that grin still parting his lips like he’s won a prize. “Got you.” I guess, technically, I am the prize in this equation, and unfortunately, I fell right into his trap, but isn’t that what I wanted? To be caught? Grabbing my ankles, he yanks me towards him, my shirt riding up in the back. A chill runs up my body at the feel of the slickness on the ground below me. I don’t want to think about the fact that it could be mud. That doesn’t matter right now.

His thick hands inch up my legs one at a time. A fingernail tracing a delicate line, first on the inside of my calf, and then my inner thigh. As he works his way up, he forces me open around him, kneeling in the grass between my legs. I’m fucking soaked. I perfume again, and he inhales deeply, eyes rolling into the back of his head. “Fuck, you smell good. I want to taste you, but the urge to be inside this sweet cunt is overriding that idea. Are you ready to become mine, Omega?”

Forcefully gripping the sides of my leggings, he rips them down, leaving me bare to his gaze. The wind from earlier kisses my bare skin, giving it a chill.

I doubt I’ll even get my panties back. I can imagine they’re a souvenir at this point. Raising one leg at a time, he slips my leggings completely off and throws them behind him on the ground, not bothering to look where they not so gracefully land. No, his eyes are on me, hot on my core, and I can feel the trickle of slickness as it pours out of me.

It’s been so long since I've felt an alpha’s knot. Will he knot me?

Leaning in, he staggers a trail of hot kisses down my shoulders and neck, followed by licks from his hot tongue. Air curls and dances around the skin that's still damp from his kisses. Nerves run up and down my skin, lighting up with his mere attention.

He leans back again, still watching me as he unbuttons his pants and ungracefully shoves them down his hips. A thick, girthy cock springs free, and I wonder for just a brief second if the cold will affect him, but it’s clearly not a problem. In fact, I’d swear his manhood is getting bigger with just my perusal of it.

Four bars line the vein on the underside of his cock that now stands proudly against his stomach. How bad did that hurt when he got it done? And how long do you have to wait to have sex afterward? I’m assuming it's not a short healing process.

“Like what you see?” He gives me no chance to answer before cold fingertips slide up my slit. “Mmm… you’re fucking soaked and you smell like heaven.” He leans in, deeply whispering in my ear. “You liked the chase, didn't you. You’re a fucking slut for this aren’t you? Tempting me with your ways. Letting me eat you out and lick you right in front of a room full of my friends. Tell me, my little slut, is exhibitionism a kink of yours? Are you a knot whore who just wants to be fucked? What would you do if I didn’t give you what you wanted? Hmm… What if I take what I want and leave you hanging with the promise of punishment when you try to touch this pretty little pussy later?”

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