Page 31 of Primal Snow

His growls grow louder, more insistent.

My hands tremble as I reach out. The cold flesh feels slick and sticky against my fingers, its coppery scent hits my nostrils, and I gag. He watches intently as I bring it to my lips and take a hesitant nibble—chewy, bitter, utterly revolting—before spitting it out with a dramatic retch.

“Ican’tdo it!” I whine, shaking my head, wiping my tongue with the back of my hand like that will somehow erase the taste.

Yeti narrows his eyes, grabs a spare chunk, and pops it into his mouth in one piece. His chewing is obscene, almost coaxing me to try it. But excuse me if I don’t trust his taste buds—he ate Jay, so he doesn’t get to have an opinion here.

Suddenly, he pauses between his own bites to let out a burp. A long, loud, satisfied sound is so deep it shakes the cave walls.

For a moment, I just stare at him. Then, against all logic, I laugh. It bubbles up uncontrollably, breaking through the horror of it all. Here I am, trapped naked in a torture cave, being force-fed raw meat by a giant, fur-covered fucking beast, and now he’s burping like a frat boy after shotgunning a beer.

“Real classy,” I say, tossing my head at how absurdthe situation is.

He looks at me, his eyes bright, as if he’s pleased with himself. But there’s something that might almost be curiosity, or maybe mild confusion. Perhaps it’s his first time hearing a human laugh in his presence. That wouldn’t surprise me.

I exhale, still half-smiling. “Alright, alright, you win. But you need to cook it.” I point at the fire, doing a whole theater performance for him to understand what I mean.

Yeti’s eyes follow my gesture, then flick back to me. For a moment, there’s a long pause where he just stares at me, head tilted, as if weighing whether my strange behavior is worth indulging. I can practically see the gears turning inside that horned head of his.

Finally, with a huff—one that definitely translates tofine, you ridiculous creature—he crouches by the fire. His massive claws grip the slab of deer meat, holding it over the flames. The smell of sizzling fat fills the air, rich and smoky, and despite my terror and nausea, my stomach betrays me with a deep, needy growl.

When it’s charred and dripping, he pulls it back and turns toward me, crouching low. His expression is unreadable, but his movements are deliberate as he extends the cooked meat toward me.

I hesitate, staring at it. He snarls at me—not a threat, but a warning. An expectation. So I take it, the heat and grease coating my fingers, and bring it to my mouth. The taste is smoky and gamey, but it’s food. My body reacts before my mind can catch up, and I take another bite.

Yeti grunts in approval, his massive shouldersrelaxing just slightly as he settles back on his haunches, watching me eat like he’s successfully domesticated a particularly stubborn stray cat.

I chew slowly, eyeing him right back.

Great. Now I’m bonding withthe beast.

Chapter 15

The next day, Yeti (whom I’ve decided to just call “Yeti” because honestly, what else can I call him?) is mostly content. My plan has been working so far—as long as I don’t struggle, he doesn’t lash out. However, I need to take it a step further.

With my gaze fixed on him through the bars, my wrists feel heavy under the weight of the shackles, the cold metal biting into my skin as I adjust my position to sit up. My mind races, trying to piece together a strategy—something, anything to get out of this cage.

If I could convince him that I’m readyto submit, to play the obedient sex slave he so clearly wants me to be, maybe he’d stop locking me away like this. Maybe, just maybe, if I earned his trust, I’d have a chance to escape. All I need to do is pretend I enjoy his company… and his touch. But the idea feels like a double-edged blade. Could I really do it? Seduce him?

The thought sends a perverse shiver down my spine, but I know I have to at least try. I have nothing to lose anymore.

Leaning back against the rough, damp cave wall, I let out a soft, deliberate sigh, my breath audible enough to catch his attention. His head snaps toward me instantly, his eyes narrowing as they lock onto me, his bestial focus so intense it feels like a weight pressing against my chest. I cup my breasts, hesitating for only a moment before gently massaging them. My skin feels sensitive beneath my touch, every caress sending faint ripples of heat low into my belly.

Though the fire radiates enough warmth to keep the chill at bay, the air in the cave is still cool. My nipples, already stiff from the cold, become almost painfully achy as I roll them between my fingers, imagining a mouth sucking on them, teasing them. The fantasy ignites something inside me that I try to suppress, but it rises anyway, coiling low in my stomach.

I let out a small gasp, my head tilting back as I lose myself in the sensations. One of my hands falls lower, brushing against the smooth skin of my stomach before traveling further down. My legs part instinctively, bending at the knees, my heels pressing against the cold,unforgiving stone floor. His low grunt echoes through the cavern, a sound so guttural and raw that it sends a shockwave through my core.

I glance at him, and even in the dim firelight, I can see the way his dark eyes are fixed on me, utterly entranced. He’s staring at my pussy, and the intensity of his gaze makes my skin flush with heat. Wetness pools between my thighs, and shame bubbles up in my chest, mixing with the dark thrill coursing through me.

My fingers slide down to part my slick folds, and I can tell he grows more excited, delighted with the view. I bite my lip, stifling a moan as I circle my tiny clit, coaxing it to attention. The electrifying sensation is almost too much, my body betraying me as the shameful pleasure builds. My mind tries to conjure a different image, a safer one—Chase. His perfect face flickers in my thoughts for a brief moment, and I cling to it, pretending I’m doing this for him.

But when I open my eyes, it’s not Chase staring back at me. It’s the beast.

He watches me with an almost maniacal hunger, his thick chest heaving as his nostrils flare, drool trickling down from his parted mouth. His gaze is carnal, possessive, and utterly filthy, and something about it breaks the fragile illusion I’ve tried to hold onto.

I hate myself for it, burning with shame, but seeing him like this arouses me even more. I notice his cock then, protruding from its sheath. It’s otherworldly, terrifying, and yet I can’t look away. I know what it can do, how it can stretch me, how those ridges feel dragging against mywalls in ways no human ever could.

The memory alone causes my little pussy to clench around nothing, desperate for something to fill the ache he’s awakened in me.

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