Page 4 of Chased & Bred by the BRATVA
I wait. One heartbeat. Two heartbeats. Three.
Then I chase.
My feet barely touch the ground as I move through the woods. She crashes through branches like a storm, but I glide like a shadow. I know every root, every slope. She doesn’t stand a chance.
But fuck, she runs like she wants to be caught. Her calves and thighs working just hard enough to push her ahead.
Like maybe sheneedsto feel the burn.
Branches whip past me. I hear her stumble and gasp, but she keeps going. She’s fast. Fierce. She doesn’t cry or scream. Shelaughs. Breathless, wild laughter that slices through the night and sinks into my bones.
I want to hear that sound under me. Around me. I want to drag it from her throat again and again until she forgets her own name.
I lunge.
My arms wrap around her waist as she tries to veer left, and we hit the ground hard. I take the brunt of it, twisting us so she lands on top of me, panting and wriggling like a snared fox.
Her fists hit my chest, and then she stills. Her breath is hot against my neck. Her thighs straddle my hips. And when she lifts her face to look at me, the heat in her eyes knocks the air from my lungs.
She’s not afraid.
She’shungry.
She grinds down against me, a challenge, making my already solid cock throb harder with want.
“Now what?” she breathes.
I roll us, pinning her beneath me, my hands caging her wrists in the dirt.
“Now,” I say, voice low and thick, “I take what’s mine.”
Rachel
The earth is cool and soft beneath my back, damp with fallen leaves and crushed grass. I can barely breathe, but not because he’s hurting me. It’s the weight of him. The pressure of his body above mine. The way his hands pin my wrists like iron shackles, like I belong beneath him and nowhere else.
His chest rises and falls against mine. His breath fans across my cheek. His scent is all spice and smoke and something primal that makes my thighs clench even as the voice in my head screams that I should be afraid.
But I’m not. I’m lit up from the inside.
I stare up at him.Starlight filters through the canopy above, catching the edges of his jaw, the curve of his mouth. His eyes are almost black in the shadows, fixed on mine with a focus so sharp I feel it in my bones. He’s not looking at me like I’m a person. He’s looking at me like I’m prey. Like I’m already his.
His grip tightens just slightly, testing. My wrists burn where he holds them, but I don’t try to pull away. I can’t. I don’t want to.
My breath catches in my throat.
“What are you going to do to me?” I ask, my voice barely more than a whisper.
His mouth curves into something dark. “Everything I want.”
He shifts lower, his hips pressing into mine, and I gasp. There’s no mistaking the hardness between us. No denying theheat that pulses in my belly at the brutal feel of him, heavy and ready through the fabric of his jeans.
“Tell me to stop,” he says, his voice low and rough. “Tell me now. It’s your only chance.”
I swallow hard. Every sane part of me screams that I should. But my body is louder. The blood in my veins pumps just for this. My legs part just enough that he knows what my answer is.
“I don’t want you to stop,” I say, breathless, knowing what this means for me tonight, but choosing to keep that information to myself.
His eyes flash. He lets go of my wrists and immediately his hands are on my body. Rough palms over my hips, my thighs, pushing Ava’s scraps of dress up to my waist. I arch beneath him, every inch of me alive and straining toward his touch.
