Bella didn't hesitate. She couldn't. Not when his voice held that absolute weight, that mixture of cold command and the dark promise she craved.
Trembling, her legs wobbling like a newborn fawn, she turned away from him. She stumbled just a few steps until she reached the rough bark of the massive tree behind her.
She placed her dirty, shaking hand against the trunk for support, her nails scratching against the wood.
She didn't need to be told what to do next. She tilted her back, arching her spine in a beautiful, desperate curve as Viktor stepped in close. He didn't wait.
His hand pressed flat against her lower back, pushing her forward, forcing that arch deeper until her ass stuck out invitingly.
His hand grabbed the hem of her ragged, mud-stained cloth. He lifted it slowly.
As the tattered fabric rose, sliding up her thighs, the pale skin of her ass cheeks wasn't bare. A strip of black fabric hugged her hips.
