BetaBeachBabe23: Catch me if you can.
TidalDominance: Run, little rabbit.
My grin turns predatory. Oh, it’s on.
I pull on my mask and stalk towards her, making sure to keep my pace slow and steady. The thrill of the hunt is coursing through me, and the storm is making me feel more alive than ever. She doesn’t let me get close enough to discern the details of her face, but that just fuels my excitement, my desire to catch and conquer her, and then finally reveal her visage – if I so desire.
I close the distance between us, and she bolts in the opposite direction, her hood falling and hair flying behind her like a wild banner. I growl and give chase, my heart racing with anticipation. The rain is coming down harder now, and the wind is knocking me off balance, but I power through it. I’m determined to catch her.
I can hear her breathless laughter as she sprints along the beach, dodging driftwood and jumping over patches of seaweed. She’s making her way towards the dunes, probably thinking the hills and dips will afford her places to hide, but she doesn’t know that I know this beach inside out; that it’s my back garden.
She’s fast, but I know I’m faster. I close in on her, grabbing onto her hair and yanking her back. She cries out, stumbles, but regains her footing as I loosen my grip. She starts running again. It wouldn’t be fun if I caught her too quickly.
I let her go. Just for a moment. Just enough to make her believe she’s slipping through my grasp.
She tears across the dunes again, breath ragged, limbs wild with adrenaline. But she’s tiring – I can hear it in the choppy rhythm of her steps, the way her knees falter in the soft sand. Not many can keep pace with me, especially not in this terrain.
Lightning forks across the sky, casting everything in stark, electric silver.
And then I move.
A final push. A burst of speed. I close the gap in seconds.
This time when I grab her, it’s with both hands – one fisting in that wild, rain-slick hair, the other clamping around her waist as I drag her back against me. She lets out a strangled gasp, twisting hard in my grip, but it’s instinct more than protest. I feel the moment her body yields – tense, trembling, then slack with anticipation.
I don’t let her go.
I manhandle her down to her knees, twisting her hoodie up around her ribs, baring skin that glows pale in the rain. She braces on her forearms, face turned away, hair stuck to her cheeks and neck like seaweed caught in a current. Her breath hitches, and I hear her whimper – soft and wanting.
Fuck.
I kneel behind her, grinding the hard length of my cock against the curve of her arse through the soaked fabric of her shorts. She arches into it like she’s been waiting for this all night.
“Still want to be caught, little rabbit?” I murmur, voice rough and wrecked.
She nods, frantic. “Yes. Please.”
God.
I fist her hair tighter, tugging her head back just enough to expose the long line of her throat, rain sliding down it like tears.
“You ran so well,” I rasp. “But you were always going to end up on your knees for me.”
She moans – guttural, shameless – and pushes back harder against my cock, soaking herself in the pressure and weight of me.
I drag my hand down the dip of her spine, then lower, cupping her cunt through her shorts – heat radiating like a fucking furnace. She’s soaked, and not just from the rain.
I groan. “You’re dripping for me already, aren’t you?”
She nods again, fingers digging into the sand. “Yes.”
My hand stills.
“Say it properly. Out loud.”
“I’m wet for you,” she breathes, trembling. “I’ve been wet since the second I saw you.”
Fucking hell. Why does she have to be a beta?