The Cabin: Rachel's Story: The Cabin, #6

By Natalie Stark

***The Cabin Series - the controversial and risqué USA Today Bestseller***

"Seriously, where is this cabin! I really do love this series. Fun, hot quickies with interesting and believable characters in a mysterious setting. I need to find this cabin!" - Jenn - Bookworm Betties Reviews.

Trapped in a seven year relationship, she never wanted, Rachel leaves home and soon finds herself stranded in a snowstorm with nowhere to go or to sleep for the night. 

After a kind offer of help, Rachel takes shelter for the night in a remote mountainside cabin. But Rachel soon discovers that she is not alone and shares not just the cabin but herself with a mysterious stranger for the night.

Dark, sexy and erotic with an unexpected twist, 'Rachel's story' is book six in the #1 bestselling series, 'The Cabin'.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Natalie Stark
• Release date: Jul 7, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393120377

Book preview

Prologue

He worked his tongue down the length of her body, leaving a glimmering trail in the soft lamplight. She squirmed on the bed beneath him. It was almost a shudder.

Do you like that? he whispered, not knowing what she liked. Not knowing anything about her at all. Only that she was a friend of Rachel’s. He had seen her just the once at the party Rachel had invited him to just a few weeks ago. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her then, just like he couldn’t now. But whereas at the party he could only imagine what her body looked like beneath the wispy summer dress she had been wearing, now he could marvel at it for real. He could now do more than look at it, he could taste it, too. And the taste of her made his cock taut, hard as it pressed against the insides of his trousers.

That feels so good, she sighed, gyrating her hips in a slow, circular motion against the bed. She had known he’d wanted to fuck her. The way he had stared at her at the party had told her that. She knew for certain when he’d brushed up against her at the bar, the backs of his hands and fingers brushing against the swell of her arse. But he was Rachel’s husband, right? Only been married two years. But the girl on the bed wasn’t married. She had no one to care about other than herself. What did she have to lose? This was just a fuck – a one off – that she had yearned for since she had seen him at that party. But Rachel was her friend. But not a very close one, the girl reminded herself, trying to sedate what little conscience she had. It was just a fuck. It wasn’t like it was ever going to happen again. It wasn’t like Rachel would ever find out. The hotel room he had brought her to was miles from home. Miles from Rachel.

He blew a trail of warm breath over the damp kisses he had left around the tops of her thighs. She groaned again, this time lifting her hips from off the bed. It was like she was giving herself to him. Telling him she wanted more. With her hips slightly raised, he took the opportunity to slide her panties down her slender legs. He held them in one hand, rubbing the ball of his thumb over the crotch. It felt damp. His cock twitched in his lap. He raised them to his face and sniffed up the dampness – as if breathing in her sex. Sliding them into his trouser pocket, his heart raced faster, knowing he would make Rachel wear them the next time he fucked her. He liked screwing her while she wore another woman’s panties. It turned him on. Made his head spin and heart race. Made his cock stretch so tight and hard, it felt like it was going to explode. He always told Rachel they were new – a present he had picked up for her while he was away on business. But he suspected she secretly understood they weren’t a present. She could smell the other woman on them just like he could. So why then did she wear them? Because she was weak. Because she would do anything for him. He liked to degrade her. That was part of the turn-on for him. And he secretly wondered if it didn’t turn her on, too. But what excited him the most was knowing that while fucking Rachel as she wore this other woman’s panties, he would be imagining he was fucking the both of them. It would be like they were both there with him. In the same room. On the same bed. Both of them wanting him. And him pleasuring the both of them. But the excitement of the fantasy was becoming less – weaker. That gnawing excitement in the pit of his stomach was fading. He wanted to go the next step – to take it further. He didn’t want to just imagine he was fucking his wife and another – he wanted it to be real. His imagination could only conjure up so much. He needed to feel Rachel and another woman against him. He wanted to be able to reach out and feel soft, subtle flesh on both sides of him. Above and beneath him. He needed to see a woman enjoy Rachel, just like he enjoyed her. He wanted to see Rachel enjoy another woman just like how he was going to enjoy the woman now stretched naked on the bed before him.

Easing her legs apart, he gently pushed back the hood of soft skin covering her clit. It shone pink and wet. Caressing it with his thumb, she murmured, gyrating her hips against the flat of the bed again.

That feels amazing, she sighed, closing her eyes shut, knowing that this man knew how to work his fingers. Rachel was a lucky bitch. Did she realise that? Most men fumbled her like they were kneading a lump of dough. But this guy took his time. He liked to explore. The pleasure was going to be all hers tonight.

She felt the sides of his face and hair brush against the insides of her thighs as he sunk his head between them. She made knots with her fists as he gently sucked her clit into his mouth. He knew how to work that, too. She shuddered, already fighting the urge to come in his mouth. Would he like that? Is that what he wanted, she wondered, as he slowly lapped up the hot juices that were already escaping from her. Her clit throbbed like a heartbeat between her thighs and she wanted to be fucked by him.

Oh, yeah, that feels so fucking good, she squirmed on the bed, now gripping the sheets. Her fists and long, red fingernails were like claws. She let go of the bedding, losing her fingers amongst his unruly black hair. She pulled his head deeper between her legs. He flicked the tip of his tongue over her swollen clit and licked her juices from his chin. They tasted hot and musky. He could feel her pussy growing warmer – hotter – and he wanted to feel that warmth around the length of his cock. He wanted to sink himself deep into her wet, glorious heat.

Gripping his hair, she pulled his mouth from over her. She knew that if he continued to suck and lick at her clit with his mouth, it would be all over for her.