Page 60 of Our Covenant

He groans, rocking his hips to my rhythm. “That’s right. Curse my name.”

Another rough, grinding circle brings me closer to the rocky cliffs of orgasm.

“Fuck you, Bishop. Oh gods, fuck you.” I moan louder, hoping that even Maddox can hear how close I am.

It’s happening. The tightness in my lower belly pulls and pulses until my toes are curling and my chest is heaving. But right as the crest of pleasure starts to peak, Hawthorne smiles and releases me. He puts just enough space between us that all the built-up friction is gone and all I’m left with is his smug expression beaming down at me.

“I bet you’re so pretty when you come,” he whispers with the most malicious smile on his lips. “I’ll have to ask Fox for all the dirty details.”

Rage fills the void that pleasure abandoned. The last bit of Alric’s magic tickles at the back of my throat. The same spot where tears prick when I’m angry or frustrated. I can feel the hot emotions start to well in my eyes as I push Alric’s memory away. The last thing I want is to feel him when I was so close to coming on Thorne Bishop’s dick.

I try to catch my breath and steel my disappointment, but he’s still so close. The clash of fury and need inside of me whirls, making me lightheaded.

“Maybe Maddox will give you what you need.” Thorne finally takes his hands off me and steps away.

The front of his jeans is wide open, the wet spot on his light blue briefs the only evidence that I wasn’t the only one affected by what he just did.

“Mads.” Thorne raises his voice, and there is a single knock on the other side of the door. He lowers his gaze between my still spread legs then moves it up to my face. “She’s all warmed up for you.” Another loud knock on the door. Thorne lowers his voice and speaks only to me. “Tell me one more time.”

I get to my unsure feet and inch toward the door. “I fucking hate you, Hawthorne Bishop.”

The door opens. An empty pathway lies out before me. I take one last look at Thorne before I take off running. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to. We both can feel his victory and my shame.

Asshole.

I shoot out the door without looking for Maddox. I don’t have to lay eyes on him to know that he’s at my back already. The slick fluid between my legs is cold and uncomfortable, but I push harder, determined to get as much distance between me and the burning embarrassment that just transpired in the barn.

Just keep running.

The sound of my feet hitting the near frozen dirt path into the grove of apple trees matches my heartbeat. My lungs fill faster and faster and I swear I can run for miles. I imagine reaching the edge of the orchard to whatever state road runs alongside the estate. Could I make it to the next town over?

I know Maddox would never let me get that far. Not tonight.

The burning in my calves starts to feel like lead, but I push through.

Don’t stop, Elsbeth. Keep running.

The words echo in my head, but they aren’t mine. The voice is familiar and playful, but I can’t fixate on it to unmask it.

He’s so close now. The trees know. The stones stabbing into the balls of my feet know. Every blade of grass and clump of dirt can feel him closing the distance. And when curiosity finally eats away at my confidence, I look back. All I see is a hand reaching out to grab me.

Something wraps around my ankle and all my momentum slams me to the ground. I should stumble or even roll across the path, but I don’t. Out of self-defense, my eyes shut tight as the world topples over me. My head is whipped around but saved from hitting anything by whatever force snatched me out of thin air.

Tendrils of roots curl and tighten around my torso, thighs, and arms to cradle me into the earth. I should panic, but something about this feels safe. The upturned soil is warmer than the air kissing my exposed skin.

Hot human fingers touch my cheek and I open my eyes. Maddox’s blond hair is a thin halo around his face as he gazes down at me with the most satisfied grin. He’s hovering over me on his hands and knees with one of his thighs positioned between my caged legs.

“Look at you.” He’s panting. His chest expands and caves, but I doubt it’s due to the run. “Perfectly filthy for me.”

“Let me go, Maddox,” I grit out, but there’s no fight left.

“You want release.” It’s not a question.

I nod.

“You need it.” Another statement.

I look up into his eyes, silently pleading for him to have mercy.