All acts in this smut are consensual.
The air in the cabin was too still.
She’d been alone for hours—or at least, she thought she had. The sun had long since vanished, swallowed by thick mountain pines and a sky so black it made the windows look like mirrors. The power was out. The fire had gone low. And still… her skin tingled.
She wasn’t scared. Not really.
But her body? Her body knew.
She pressed her back to the wall, fingers gripping the edge of the kitchen counter, her breathing slow but shallow. The thick hoodie she wore felt suddenly too hot. Her bare thighs prickled. Somewhere out in the dark, the forest groaned—and then a twig snapped.
She turned her head slowly toward the door. Locked. But it wouldn’t matter.
Nothing could keep him out when he was like this.
Days of watching her move around the cabin. Watching her stretch, cook, bathe. Knowing what she was doing—what she was asking for—every time she lingered a little too long near the window, skin damp from the shower, mouth parted in boredom or expectation.
Now she was going to pay for it.
He moved silently through the trees, massive frame melting into the shadows, blood humming with anticipation. His cock was already hard, aching in the tightness of his pants. His mask clung to his face like a second skin, catching the heat of his breath, feeding the beast in his chest.
Told her what would happen if she kept teasing.
Told her what he’d do once he finally stopped holding back.
The knock at the door was soft.
Too soft for someone his size.
Her stomach dropped. She didn’t breathe. Didn’t move.
A second knock. Slower. A scrape of something heavy along the wood.
“König,” she whispered, more to herself than anything. “Don’t.”
The silence that followed was louder than thunder.
The door burst open, splinters flying as the hinges snapped and König stepped through like a god from some old nightmare. All black. All muscle. Mask shadowed. Breath hard and uneven. He said nothing.
She darted for the hallway, bare feet slapping against the wooden floor, heart crashing in her chest. She could hear him behind her—those heavy, deliberate steps. He didn’t rush. He didn’t need to. He knew he’d catch her.
She rounded the corner and felt an arm like a steel beam wrap around her waist, dragging her backward with a grunt. She screamed—half-laugh, half-moan—as he threw her against the wall, body caging hers, heat pouring off him like fire.
“You made me wait,” he growled, voice thick and low and utterly feral. “You wanted this. Didn’t you, mädchen?”
Her breath caught. “Yes.”
He kissed her like he wanted to drown in her, teeth grazing her bottom lip before he bit it, hand already between her thighs, finding her slick and soaked.
“So wet,” he hissed. “You like being hunted.”
She whimpered when he yanked the hoodie up over her head, eyes devouring the curve of her breasts, the arch of her neck. His hand wrapped around her throat—not tight, just a warning—and he leaned down until their lips nearly touched.
“Next time,” he whispered, “run faster.”
Then he bent her over the table and shoved his pants down, no pretense, no gentleness, just the thick, heavy pressure of him pressing against her entrance—and thrusting in with one brutal, claiming stroke.
She cried out. He groaned.
And the beast inside him roared.
The stretch of him filled her to the edge of pain.
König didn’t move at first. Just stayed inside her, letting her adjust to his size, his heat, the weight of his hand on her back holding her down. She trembled, cheek pressed to the wood of the table, breathing ragged.
“I missed this cunt,” he growled in her ear, accent thicker now, voice hoarse with restraint. “Missed the way you fight it at first. Always so fucking tight.”
He drew back an inch—then slammed back in. Hard. Unforgiving.
“That’s it,” he rasped. “Scream for me.”
He set a brutal rhythm—hips snapping against her ass with a pace that made the table creak and the walls shake. One hand fisted in her hair, the other snaked around to rub her clit, rough fingers circling with ruthless precision.
Every thrust made her rise onto her toes.
Every breath came out a moan.
Every second, he pushed her closer to unraveling.
“You wanted me wild,” he gritted. “This is what that means. No mercy, liebling. Not tonight.”
“Fuck,” she gasped. “Don’t stop—please don’t stop—”
König barked a low, dark laugh. “You think I’m stopping before I breed you?”
He flipped her over in one smooth motion, lifting her like she weighed nothing and slamming her back onto the table. He tore the panties down her thighs and spread her wide, grabbing her knees and bending them back until she was helpless beneath him.
His cock slammed back inside—deeper this time, hitting her in places no one else ever had. Her nails raked down his back. She was shaking. Babbling.
“Already cockdrunk,” he sneered, watching her eyes roll. “You fucking love this.”
Her orgasm hit like lightning—white-hot, shattering. She screamed, clenching around him, her whole body going tight and twitching. But König didn’t let up. He fucked her through it—relentless, punishing.
“Too much,” she gasped. “I—I can’t—”
“You will.” He grabbed her throat again, gently this time, thumb stroking her jaw. “One more. For me.”
And he didn’t even let her catch her breath.
He dragged her off the table, pushed her onto all fours on the floor, and took her again from behind—deeper, rougher, as if chasing something inside her. The slap of skin on skin echoed in the cabin. Her moans turned to sobs. Her body gave in.
And still—he didn’t come.
She collapsed halfway through her second orgasm, legs shaking too hard to hold her up, face flushed and wet. König gathered her against his chest, sat on the floor with her in his lap, cock still hard and buried deep inside.
“You still want more,” he murmured, brushing the hair from her face.
She nodded, weakly. Barely conscious.
His smile under the mask was wicked. Satisfied. Starving.
“Then I’ll give it to you.”
He shifted, still fully seated inside her, and started moving again—slow, thick, grinding strokes that made her sob into his neck. Her pussy was so sensitive, her whole body trembling from aftershock, but he kept going.
She didn’t know how long he kept going.
Time dissolved into a blur of pressure and heat—of trembling thighs and tear-slicked cheeks, of whispered curses in German and the low, possessive growl of a man gone entirely feral.
König was everywhere. Inside her. Around her. Under her skin.
He held her like she might disappear, wrapping those massive arms around her middle while he fucked her slow and deep from behind, their bodies slick with sweat. Every time she started to come down, he found a new way to push her back up—thumb on her clit, hand around her throat, teeth on her shoulder.
She was ruined. Shaking. Raw. And still, she whispered, “More.”
He shifted her into his lap again, thick thighs bracketing her hips, and let her ride him—his hands on her waist, guiding her, while he sat back against the wall and watched her fall apart.
“That’s it, bunny,” he murmured, voice low and strained. “Fuck yourself on it. Show me who you belong to.”
She whined—desperate, overstimulated—and moved her hips in tight circles, clenching around him. Her cunt was so swollen, so soaked, it made obscene sounds every time she sank back down. His cock throbbed inside her, thick and relentless, stretching her open again and again.
“I know.” He grabbed her jaw, made her look at him. “You feel full, ja?”
She nodded. Couldn’t speak.
“Gonna make you mine, liebling. For real this time.”
He surged up, catching her in his arms mid-thrust and flipping her onto her back—pressing her into the floor with the weight of his entire body, hips grinding against her clit as he started thrusting again, faster now, harder.
She was crying. Moaning. Saying his name like a prayer.
“Please—please, come—inside me—”
He growled like an animal.
“You want that? Want me to fucking breed you?”
He slammed into her, once, twice, and on the third thrust he came with a roar, cock pulsing deep inside her as his hips locked against hers. She felt it—every drop—warm and thick and endless, spilling into her like she was made to take it.
König didn’t stop moving. He rocked into her slowly as he came, hand pressed over her belly like he needed to feel it, to mark her from the inside out.
“So good for me,” he rasped. “Took it all. Just like I knew you would.”
Her nails dug into his back. Her legs wrapped tight around his waist.
And finally—finally—the tension drained from his body.
He collapsed over her, heavy and warm, chest rising and falling like a man finally at peace.
They lay there in silence, bodies tangled, breath mingling. His cock still inside her. Her body still trembling.
“I’ll never let anyone else touch you.”
She blinked up at him, dazed. “I don’t want anyone else.”
He cupped her cheek. Pressed his masked forehead to hers.
And just like that, the beast went quiet.
