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sliding up her legs and groping across her thighs, attempting to push up her skirt. His breath was hot at her neck, the gnash of his teeth scant inches from her skin, and she realized how possible it was that there would be an accidental turn that night.

He had caught her . . . but barely. She had not come out tonight for barely and had no intention of being had by a drunkard. It was almost too easy to pull a leg under herself, using his shoulders for leverage as she pulled herself up and away from him, throwing him off easily. Too late. Her scream had been a mistake, and the others knew where she was now.

She could hear her three pursuers still crashing through the woods, one of them slowing already.

The one to the right was heedless of the noise he made, too focused on charging after her . . . the short one, she thought. He had more stamina than she’d accounted for, and it would be hard to throw off his attentions for the night. Her heart was pounding, and she realized that Grayson might not be the one to catch her. There were too many at her back, too determined, too close. She could hear their hard breath, their low growls, the sound of their pursuit . . . but she could finish the run.

If she could complete the ancient circle, she could wait for them to come to her and take her pick.

The treeline ended just a few yards ahead, the open expanse of lawn ahead, white and shining compared to the impenetrable blackness of the tree cover, and like a moth, she was drawn to its glow.

Vanessa was confident she could cut through the clearing without issue, feeling the white light on her skin, her wolf rearing. It was the moonlight that was her undoing.

She broke from the tree cover, head dropping back and her arms opening as if to embrace the white beams of light, never seeing the dark shape of the wolf at her side until she was broadsided, a brick wall slamming into her with a force that made her see stars. The blow of his body left her breathless, wrapped in his heavy arms and rolled, protecting her from the impact of the ground until she was on her back beneath him, sandwiched between his thick thighs, the too-bright lights of the floods blinding her. She’d made it nearly all the way around.

The smell of him was as pungent and familiar in her nose as the pine and peat of the forest around them, and as his hand dragged down her throat, tightening at the base, her heart quivered, blood roiling beneath her skin. Helpless and captured. This was why she’d come, after all. Despite its softened state when they’d begun ru

Vanessa realized he’d likely been keeping pace with her the entire time, moving silently through the woods, parallel with her own route. It had been others pursuing her clumsily, and she could hear them crashing through the brush even now, now that she’d been caught. Her captor was unmoved by their approach, the blunt edge of his perfectly buffed nails still scraping over her throat slowly, and she was certain she could see his smug smile, even concealed behind the wolf head he wore.

“It looks like you didn’t run fast enough, rabbit,” he crooned, his rough baritone making her toes curl in anticipation of what would come next as his cock jumped against her skin. The stola was dragged over her head, leaving her bare, and one of her legs was pulled open, allowing him to settle with one leg in between her own, space to rub his cockhead against the lips of her sex, coating in her slickness.

She realized then just how close they were to the house, to the circular stone balcony, still filled with those who had not participated in the run, those guests whose staid cocktail attire had remained unmolested. They’d not run, she reminded herself, squinting in the blinding light, but they knew what the celebration was all about and had come to watch. And now it’s time to give them a show.

She’d not yet answered him, and his thumb pressed slowly on her throat. It would take such little effort for him to block her airway completely, she thought, to choke the pissy, pouty look off her face for good, and she wondered if that was perhaps what she deserved. At least as much as he deserved every violent scenario her fevered mind had conjured over the years.

“Is this what you want, rabbit?”

His voice was a low scrape across her skin, and all she was able to do in response was whimper, desperate and writhing, keening when he pushed the head of his cock into her. He’d been absent from her bed for too long, absent from her daily life, and her body was greedy to welcome him home.

Everything about him was solid and thick, from his broad chest to his tree trunk thighs, and it didn’t matter how ready she was, how needy she was, how many times they’d danced this dance — her eyes rolled back as he pushed his thick cock into her, spreading her wide and stretching her walls, her breath coming out in a wheeze until he was seated within her fully.

His pullback was slow and dragging, and when he thrust forward once more, she cried out. Over and over, a slow drawback and a forward thrust, burying himself balls-deep on every pass, and every time she gasped, whimpering as he dragged against her g-spot. It wasn’t enough, for she needed him to rut her wildly, needed to be filled with his knot . . . but this slow, deep fucking was an excellent prelude.

It was then that she saw them. The spot in the lawn where he’d rolled her was straddling the edge of the illumination provided by the blindingly bright floods before them. The shadows of the black forest were at their backs, leaving them perfectly in the spotlight. He was still kneeling upright and had begun to pump into her steadily with the same hard, deep thrusts, his palm pressing down on her lower abdomen so that she felt the drag of him within her.

The position left her whole body exposed, glowing in the bright lights, and she saw the shape of the onlookers on the rounded stone balcony ringing the balustrade, watching her being fucked in the grass.

Beneath the overhang, others had begun pairing off, those who had been caught up in the chase or those who hung back to watch, not wanting to run but still wanting to take part in the more carnal aspects of the evening, and she was able to hear them, panting and grunting, fucking in the dark.

They were not the only ones, she realized.

Grayson’s knot had swelled, and she felt it pressing against her entrance every time his heavy balls slapped into her, his hips picking up speed, but over his shoulder, she was able to see who she thought was washboard abs, holding a moaning young woman over his arms, thrusting upwards into the girl. Another woman shrieked in laughter, spilling out of the treeline, the wolf who pursued her hooking her around the waist. They tumbled to the grass only a few feet away, wasting no time in their pleasure. Vanessa was able to smell the other woman’s cunt as her legs were spread and the heat of the other wolf’s sac as he mounted the girl without preamble.

The entire lawn had turned into a writhing mass of bodies, moans and gasps replacing the sounds of the drums. This was what the holiday was about. Turning her head, she picked out the heavy breathing of another wolf-headed man, slowly stroking himself, watching her.

“He’s the one you talked to,” Grayson murmured, deep and mocking, low enough for her ears only,

“back inside. Did you like the way his cock felt, rabbit? Were you doing that just for me, or did you hope he would be the one to catch you tonight?”

She laughed, a short bark of a sound, scraping her nails down his solid chest, dragging through the dark hair there, and catching on his pebbled nipples. It didn’t matter what he said, and it didn’t matter what he’d done to hurt her, she decided, suddenly remembering the smell of another man’s semen, dry and sticky on her breasts, and the look on his face as it caught his nose.