by Sk Quinn
‘Say it.’
‘I belong to you.’
He rubs himself back and forth over my backside, and I love the feeling of him – his hardness against my bare skin.
His hand slips around to my stomach, and then down, down, reaching between my legs.
I let out a moan as he slides a finger back and forth, and warm tingles rush all over my body.
It doesn’t take long before I’m red hot between my legs.
Patrick’s hand slides out and around to my lower back. His fingers trail down onto my backside.
I feel him part my buttocks.
I flinch. ‘Don’t.’
‘Don’t what?’
‘Don’t … do anything in there.’
‘As far as I can see, you’re not in a position to be giving orders.’
28
His fingers slide down between my thighs.
‘Patrick—’
I feel him rubbing wetness up and around. Then his fingers part my buttocks again.
His cock eases between my buttocks and I tense up again.
‘Patrick! No—’
‘If you don’t like it, I’ll pull out.’
I wiggle a little, so turned on that I don’t want to move away from him. But at the same time, I’m nervous.
He eases himself slowly, slowly inside me.
I yelp at first, and he waits, breathing hard against my back.
I throb and ache against him, and little by little he edges inside.
Oh god, oh god, oh god.
I begin to moan. It does kind of hurt, but it also feels pretty good too.
‘Oooh.’
He’s going in further now and his fingers slide between my legs, rubbing me.
‘Oh! Oooooh!’ I cry, as he pushes himself all the way in.
Patrick lets out a moan as his hips meet my buttocks. He starts pumping furiously, grabbing my hips with his free hand.
He slams into me until I cry out over and over again, my fingers gripping the fur.
I look back and see his fingers, silver in the moonlight, grasping my hips.
Patrick moans too as he moves harder and faster.
All of a sudden he pulls back, all the way out, and I’m left throbbing and aching.
Then he plunges deeply inside me again, so hard and fast that I’m lost.
It doesn’t hurt anymore, and as his fingers come back to rub between my legs again I’m building up, up, up, squeezing all around him, barely able to see or breathe.
Patrick’s hand wraps around my hair and pulls tight.
As my head snaps back, I come, screaming out his name.
The orgasm takes over me and I make noises I never knew I could make.
Out here in the wild I don’t care who will hear. It’s just us, the two of us. And we’re wild animals, just like Patrick said.
I push my backside against his hips and he groans and pulls my hair tighter.
He gives one last thrust and then his body softens into me.
His arms wrap around me as I carry on coming, the orgasm sweeping up and down my body, throbbing in my buttocks and between my legs.
When my body goes limp, Patrick lays me down on the fur, his arms still holding me tight.
He pulls the sleeping bag over us and we fall asleep, our bodies completely entwined.
29
I wake up to engines roaring, far away.
‘Patrick?’ I blink my eyes open and see pink sunrise lighting up the cave.
God my arse hurts.
I roll over and see Patrick fully dressed and crouching by the cave entrance.
He’s staring fiercely at the woodlands, his rifle on his lap.
‘Go back to sleep,’ he growls.
‘What is it?’ I ask, sitting up.
‘Fox hunt. But don’t worry. If they come up here, I’ll scare the dogs off with a few shots. Go back to sleep.’
‘A fox hunt?’
‘Yep,’ says Patrick. ‘The Thorburn brothers, out wrecking the countryside again.’
‘Hang on a minute.’ I wrap the sleeping bag around my shoulders. ‘As in hunting foxes with dogs?’
Patrick nods.
‘I thought that was against the law.’
‘It is. But not everyone listened. The Thorburns still hunt.’
‘That’s awful.’
‘It will be if the dogs come up here. I’ll shoot the lot of them. But don’t worry. Regan Thorburn has never trespassed on my land before. I doubt he will today.’
‘I’m not worried for me,’ I say. ‘I’m worried for the fox. Are they really hunting one? Right now?’
‘By the sounds of it they’ve got the scent.’
‘And you’re okay with that?’
‘I wouldn’t choose it for a hobby myself,’ says Patrick. ‘But what others do with their time is up to them.’
‘Are you kidding me? I thought you said that in the woods you should respect life? That you shouldn’t just take.’
‘They’re not taking anything. They’re defending their territory from vermin.’
‘By hunting a poor, defenceless animal for sport?’’
‘Poor defenceless animal? Spend a little time in the countryside and you won’t think of foxes that way. They’re predators.’
The roar of engines grows louder. ‘I thought fox hunts were on horseback.’
‘That’s not the way the Thorburns do it.’
I hear echoey barking in the distance. ‘It doesn’t bother you that some innocent animal is going to be hunted down and ripped apart?’
Patrick shrugs. ‘It’s no crueller than nature. And at least there’s a purpose to it.’
‘But it’s still sport. For fun.’ I grab my underwear and hurriedly climb into it. ‘How can you just sit there doing nothing?’
Patrick watches as I struggle into my clothes. ‘It bothers you that much? That they’re chasing a fox?’
‘Yes,’ I say. ‘It bothers me that much. And I’m not just going to sit here and let them tear some helpless creature to shreds.’
I tug on boots, stumbling past Patrick, slipping and sliding along the rock face.
30
I run towards the woods and the sound of barking dogs. I’m so furious I can hardly see straight.
Behind me I hear Patrick calling.
But I don’t slow down to listen. Patrick may be man of the woods, but he’s right – I really can run when I want to. Faster than most people and definitely faster than some big, bulky guy like Patrick.
On I run, until the ferocious barking of dogs gets louder and louder.
I see the dark shadows of dogs racing through the trees.
I stop running, realising that I have no idea what I’m going to do.
Out of nowhere, a tiny flash of red darts through the trees.
It’s a fox – a really tiny one. Its paws scamper over the ground at a hell of a pace, twisting and turning.
Within seconds the fox is so close I can see its terrified brown eyes.
And then something happens that I absolutely do not expect.
The fox leaps up into my arms.
I’m knocked backwards and stagger to get my footing.
I look down and see a tiny trembling ball of red fur in my arms.
‘It’s okay. It’s all right,’ I whisper.
But it’s not all right.
Right up ahead a snarling, barking pack of dogs tear through the trees.
I thought people used English foxhounds to hunt. But these dogs aren’t hounds. They’re Rottweilers with huge heads and teeth.
I look left and right.
There’s nowhere to hide. No friendly tree with low branches to climb.
I clutch the fox tighter and watch as the dogs race towards us.
I hear a gunshot and see twigs and leaves blow up in front of me.
The dogs scrabble to a stop, cocking their ears to listen.
Patrick stalks through the trees, his rifle at eye level.
He f
ires another shot, sending the dogs scurrying away. ‘Stand back. Wait until the dogs are out of sight.’
‘Okay,’ I gulp.
Patrick lowers the gun, and the dogs disappear into the trees.
He turns to me. ‘What the hell are you playing at?’
I clutch the fox. ‘They were going to rip it to pieces,’ I say, my hands locking tight. ‘It jumped right into my arms.’
Patrick glances at the shaking ball of fur. ‘Those dogs could have had your arm off.’
‘Rather that then watch them tear this fox to pieces.’
The roar of engines grows louder, and three men on quad bikes come bouncing through the trees.
Patrick’s jaw turns to steel.
‘Regan Thorburn,’ he growls, as a quad bike skids to a stop a few feet away.
The rider is about the same age as Patrick. But Regan looks pretty out of place in the countryside. He has closely shaved black hair, a black tattoo on his neck and dark eyes that look like they’re rimmed with kohl.
He wears torn jeans and a black-hooded sweatshirt.
Behind him two other men pull up on quad bikes.
You can see they’re brothers – they all have the same black hair and eyes. But one of them has slightly longer hair and no tattoos.
‘Well, well, if it isn’t Lord Mansfield,’ sneers Regan, mock bowing on his bike. ‘Spying on us?’
He’s sort of good-looking – in a rough and ready kind of way.
‘I wouldn’t waste my time spying on you Regan,’ says Patrick. ‘You’re too predictable.’
The fox trembles in my arms.
‘What’s she doing with our fox, Mansfield?’ says Regan, jabbing a thumb at me. ‘Don’t you know there’s a hunt on?’
‘The whole village knows you have a hunt on,’ says Patrick. ‘You make enough noise to let everyone know.’
‘Then why is your girlfriend in our way?’
‘I’m not her keeper,’ says Patrick, glaring at Regan. ‘So she can go where she pleases.’
Regan glares back. ‘I want that fox.’
I clutch the fox tighter. ‘You can’t have it.’
‘You heard the lady,’ says Patrick. ‘You can’t have it.’
Regan leaps off his bike. He’s scary big. Not as tall as Patrick, but stocky and muscular like a pit-bull.
He swaggers towards me.
Boy am I glad Patrick is here. I feel his height beside me.
‘Take one step closer,’ says Patrick, slinging the rifle over his shoulder and balling his fists. ‘One more step, Thorburn.’
Regan stops walking. ‘Just give me the fox and we’ll be on our way.’
‘That fox isn’t yours,’ says Patrick, his voice low.
‘It came from my land.’
‘Well it’s not on your land anymore.’
‘And it’s not on yours either. This is public land. You know what public means, don’t you? Like your sister. Anyone can go there.’
Patrick’s jaw tenses. ‘You don’t ever talk about my sister, Thorburn.’
‘I don’t talk about her.’ Regan grins and glances back at his brothers. ‘But from what I hear, she still talks about me.’
‘I doubt that,’ Patrick spits. ‘She’s a grown up now. No time for wasters on fast bikes.’
‘Not what that cousin of yours tells me.’
What’s all this about? I try to catch Patrick’s eye, but he’s too busy glaring at Regan.
‘You stay away from Anise,’ says Patrick. ‘Do you hear me? Stay away from her. She may not see you for what you are, but I do. You’ve only ever been interested in her money.’
‘Prove it.’
‘I’ve got better things to do.’
‘Like her?’ Regan nods at me. ‘She’s pretty, I’ll give you that. Stupid though. Taking a fox when there’s a hunt on.’
‘Watch your mouth Regan.’
Regan laughs. ‘Did you hear that boys? Lord Mansfield likes this one.’ His eyes narrow. ‘How long before you get bored of her though? Like you did Crystal?’
31
‘Let’s leave her out of this,’ says Patrick.
‘Oh you’d love that wouldn’t you? Forget all about her. Make her disappear. Find ’em, fuck ’em, forget ’em, isn’t that what you and that bastard brother of yours say?’
‘Sounds more like your motto.’
Regan turns his dark eyes on me. ‘So what does she have that Crystal doesn’t?’
‘I told you to watch your mouth,’ growls Patrick.
This Crystal … is she an ex-girlfriend or something? I feel uneasy.
‘Fucking hell!’ says Regan. ‘He’s got it bad for you, hasn’t he? The great Lord Mansfield. So fucking holier than thou.’
‘I’m warning you, Regan …’ says Patrick.
‘Who the fuck do you think you are, anyway? With your land and your titles. Lording over all of us, and yet your sister opens her legs for everybody. A real lady that one. Isn’t she Patrick?’
‘Shut your mouth Regan or I’ll shut it for you.’ Patrick’s fists are clenched and his knuckles are white.
‘You want some trouble Patrick?’
I notice that for all his talk, Regan doesn’t come any closer. God, it’s good to have Patrick here.
One of the brothers, the smaller one, climbs off his bike.
Patrick doesn’t look at him. But he must have noticed the movement because he says, ‘Get back on your bike Riley. This isn’t your fight. But if you make it yours, I swear to you I’ll finish it.’ He glances at the other brother – the one with longer hair and softer eyes. ‘That goes for you too Blake.’
Blake’s long arms rest over his handlebars. ‘You’ve known me long enough Patrick. I’m not going to start a fight over a fox.’
Blake looks kind of nicer than the other brothers. Softer. He’s not all agro and looking for a fight.
‘Show some loyalty,’ Regan snarls at his brother.
‘I’m loyal,’ says Blake. ‘Just not blind loyal. You’ve got Riley for that.’
I feel myself smile.
‘You’re not getting the fox,’ Patrick tells Regan. ‘So get on your bike and be on your way. Or there’ll be trouble.’
‘Like the trouble your little sister got into?’ Regan sneers. ‘Knocked up before she left school …’
A look of pure fury flashes over Patrick’s face. I’m pretty sure he’s going to hit Regan. I mean, he looks like he’s going to explode with anger.
‘Hey!’ I bundle the fox under my arm and grab Patrick’s wrist. ‘Don’t.’
Patrick’s eyes are trained on Regan’s.
‘Patrick!’ I try to pull him back.
‘You keep your mouth shut about Anise,’ Patrick growls. His arm is still rigid. It’s like holding a metal pole.
‘Please Patrick.’ I stare up at him, my eyes begging him to stop. I’m desperate to know what’s going on. Why there’s such hatred between Patrick and this man. But first things first. I don’t want Patrick fighting.
Patrick’s arm stays rigid for a moment. Then it softens.
Regan shakes his head. ‘Well, well. Patrick Mansfield. Following orders from a woman. I never thought I’d see the day.’
‘I can see why he likes her,’ says Blake, throwing me a quirky smile. ‘She’s beautiful.’
Regan climbs onto his bike. ‘You always like the posh ones, Blake.’
‘I’m not posh,’ I snap.
‘Course not,’ says Regan. ‘You just came from the right family, went to the right school, know the right people …’
‘You’re wrong,’ I say. ‘I never went to the right school and I don’t know the right people. And my family … they’re nobody anyone’s heard of. I’m the nanny. That’s all.’
‘What?’ Regan’s dark eyes widen.
Blake bursts out laughing. ‘Told you Patrick wasn’t a snob. You’ve always had him wrong–’
‘Me and you are going to fall out in a minute, Blakey,’ says Regan.
‘She’s worth falling out over.’ Blake’s black eyes smoulder in my direction. ‘Any day.’
I move the fox back to my chest, not sure where to look.
‘You stole our sport today,’ says Regan, revving his engine. ‘I won’t forget it.’
‘This fox is barely out of its burrow,’ says Patrick. ‘It’s half the size of your dogs and so are its legs. Is this how you get your sport Regan? By hunting cubs?’
‘At least we hunt,’ says Regan. ‘What do you do? The Thorburns are real men.’
‘Real men don’t send a pack of dogs out to tear their prey to pieces,’ says Patrick. ‘I hunt when I need to. And I do the killing myself.’
‘Whatever.’ Regan revs his engine again. ‘Let the fox back into the woods when your girl gets bored of it. Or there’ll be trouble.’
‘This is Sera’s fox now,’ says Patrick. ‘It came to her and she can do what she likes with it. And something tells me she’s not going to let it back into the woods for you to tear apart.’
‘You want to start a war Mansfield?’
Patrick laughs. ‘Our families are already at war, Thorburn. We have been for years. You don’t need a fox as an excuse.’
‘Your sister’s not at war with me.’
‘I have no idea why not. She has more reason to be than any of us. But there’s no accounting for silly schoolgirl crushes.’
‘She’s not a schoolgirl anymore, Mansfield. And yet she still sends me Christmas cards. Texts on my birthday …’
‘More fool her.’
‘I won’t forgot this.’ Regan revs his engine and skids his bike around. He looks back over his shoulder. ‘If your girlfriend’s been looking after young master Bertie, does she know who his daddy is?’
‘No. Not yet.’
‘I wonder what she’ll make of the Mansfield family when she finds out.’ Regan speeds off through the trees.
Riley follows.
Blake watches me for a moment, a half smile on his face. Then he turns his bike and follows his brothers.
32
I take deep breaths as I watch the bikes race away.
My arms are locked so tight around the shaking fox that I can barely feel them.
‘You seemed to know those men pretty well,’ I say, when the bikes have disappeared.
