FIVE - ISOBEL

I’M TERRIFIED BY TWO THINGS. One is that he’s holding my arms so tightly there is no way I can get away from him. The other is the overwhelming sense that I want him to kiss me.

He looks so hot, the fury in his eyes, the way he’s staring at me, I can barely take it. I know I should be more scared. I’m in a cabin in the forest with a man I don’t know anything about. Nobody knows I’m here. He could do absolutely anything to me and I wouldn’t be able to stop him.

I try to pull away from him, unable to handle the intensity of this feeling but he won’t let me go. Instead he undoes my jacket, whipping down the zip in under a second. I gasp but don’t stop him. I can’t stop him. My arms haven’t thawed yet.

He tugs the coat from my shoulders and I make a half hearted effort to prevent him yanking my top off me. He bats my hands away as if they were irritating but ineffectual flies, tugging it over my head and tossing that after my coat.

He doesn’t stop there, the next layer comes off and then as I mutter, “No,” he reaches behind me and unhooks my bra, letting it fall away.

I clamp my hands over my chest, surprised by how much my nipples tingle against my palms. He twists me around and bends me over. I barely have time to catch myself on the edge of the table before I realise he is yanking down my trousers and panties in one motion. He growls as he is forced to fight with my shoes, getting them off me after a concerted effort. He throws them away with such force that they thud against the far wall.

I am naked. I am shivering more than ever as he grabs me and pulls me over to the fire, the chair in his other hand. “Sit,” he says, pushing me down onto it as if I had a choice.

The fire has become an inferno, the heat of it soaking into my skin, at first too much to bear. Within seconds the cold has vanished from my bones. I hear a rustling behind me and glance back to see he is doing the same, stripping out of his clothes without saying a word.

I look away, ashamed to have seen his chest coming into view. There is a wicked scar down the left hand side but that does not detract from the taut sinews of his muscles. I cannot resist looking again. He is lowering his trousers and the handsomest cock I’ve ever seen comes into view a moment later. I am thrown by the sight.

I want to be embarrassed by my own nakedness and my peeping. I feel so small compared to him. He is so bold, seeming not to care who might see his body. Once he is naked, he comes to stand next to me, facing the fire with his hands outstretched. His cock is at the same height as my head. If I were only to lean over, I could taste it. I want to more than anything. He has barely said two words to me but already I find myself falling for him, wanting to know what that might feel like if it were inside me. My pussy tingles with desire but he is oblivious, caring only to get warm.

Steam is rising from the pile of clothes behind him. It coats the single window. There is a thud from the next room. “What was that?” I ask, looking over to the door.

He walks away, vanishing through the doorway, leaving me with the perfect image of his taut ass to keep me company. I shuffle away from the fire a little but when he comes back a minute later, he shoves my chair back into place.

I can feel myself starting to sweat, a trickle of it running down between my breasts as he continues to warm himself oblivious to me slowly cooking beside him.

After another minute of me trying as hard as I can not to glance across at his cock, he moves away to the front door, yanking it open. A blast of cold comes in with a dusting of snow. “You’re not going out there?” I ask but he is already gone. He went out naked. Is he insane?

I get up and cross to the doorway in time to see him cramming snow into a jug. The sight of him working naked in the snow turns me on more than ever.

Another blast of wind makes me shiver as he strides back over, passing me without a word. He points at the chair and I obey meekly, sitting back down and watching as he sets the jug down near the flames. The snow melts quickly and when it has turned to water he pours a little over his arms, scrubbing at them, working the mud from his skin.

He works lower, pouring more water over his chest. I see the trickles run down to his thighs as he scrubs around his cock and then he is done, pouring the last of it over his hair. He shakes his head and then returns to the door, vanishing again.

When he comes back, he has another jugful of snow and holds it out to me. I shake my head, seeing it melt in front of my eyes. “I’m all right,” I say.

He pours the contents straight over my head. I let out a shriek of shock as the ice cold water pours down me. He has a cloth on me a second later and is scrubbing my skin. I can’t breathe for a second, the cold is too much.

In moments the heat of the fire brings me back to myself and I realise his cloth is sliding over my nipples. They betray me, aching, stiffening, throbbing almost as he moves past them, over my stomach. The cloth goes between my legs for a brief moment and I let out a soft sigh, shuffling my thighs apart.

He continues to scrub at me but my body wants him back between my legs. Finally he stops, putting the cloth in the jug before standing up. I glance down. His cock is rigid, pointing aggressively towards me. I can’t help staring at it, my mouth open.

I know he’s about to kiss me. I can sense it. Instead he marches over to the front door and disappears outside again. I limp after him, following him out into the snow and immediately regretting it. I trip and fall into a drift, the burning cold sinking into my still warm skin. I feel his hand on my arm, pulling me upwards once again.