Page 11 of Red Flag Bull

I snort a quiet laugh as I stroke her. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

My jeans are already unbuttoned, and with a small adjustment, I slide my thick cock hard against her inner thigh. It weeps along her silky skin when I move, streaking her with the evidence of my desire.

I press closer to her slick heat. “I’ve seen you looking my way in town, Amanda Warren.”

Her cheeks flush and her lashes flutter at the accusation — a confession, if ever I saw one.

“You look and you tease, but you’re not brave enough to leave that bratty pack of jumped-up little shits and come to me.” I massaged her clit into a swollen bud, readying it to explode pleasure through her gorgeous body.

“Not too surprising you don’t want them to suspect your interest.” I continue winding her tighter, showing her there’s more to life than what anyone else has thought to give her. “I’m sure everyone’s warned you against me. And rightfully so.” I give her a lazy half-smile, as her body fills with restless tension beneath me. “But you’re a moth to my flame. Aren’t you, Princess?”

She utters a distracted, but agreeable, little mewling sound.

I control her body, measuring my touch, and allowing her no movement beyond grinding against me. She quickly finds the path of least resistance and follows it — can’t seem to hold herself back. She works herself into a slick mess, driven closer toward an orgasm I refuse to let her have, despite her panted little gasps making me desperate to hear her moan.

She shakes with anticipation, and flails as best she can, but I keep her teetering on the edge until our eyes meet and she silently asks what it’ll take to get what she wants.

I hold her gaze, gently squeeze the sides of her throat to constrict her blood flow, and hope with all my heart she’ll start to understand what it means to be with me.

I will challenge every destructive behavior she has and force her to own it. Praise her. Punish her. Be the fucking line she dare not cross. I will own her.

The light in her eyes flickers with need, and the second she surrenders to me, I push her over the edge.

She’s beautiful when she falls.

I lessen the pressure on her neck, finally allowing her freedom and oxygen as the powerful orgasm shudders through her. The clenching waves wrack her body and rob her of all control. Consumed, she cries out so loudly, the birds flutter from the trees in alarm.

She seizes and shakes beneath me, her movements a wildly enticing display of the energy coursing through her body. She soaks her thighs and the head of my cock with every thrashing tremor, and all I want is to push inside her, but I don’t.

“I’ve noticed you, too, of course.” I skim my lips past hers in a pitiful non-kiss, as her body settles into a twitchy puddle beneath me. “Why else would I be here when you needed me? I notice you every time you leave that pretty mansion on the lake. I noticed when you swam naked in the moonlight, while the rest of the world slept. I saw you determined to swim so far, it’d be a one-way trip. And I saw when you got scared and turned back. I saw you drag yourself up the shore, where the gritty sands coated your skin like scales while you cried. Of course I would notice when you lured your stepfather into the woods, to bait me and destroy your whole family in one fell swoop. And I definitely noticed when you realized you were in over your head.”

I lick the side of her salty cheek where Melvin struck her. Where she can’t keep her sadness from falling. “You hate your life,” I say quietly. “You hate your family. You hate that your kid sister is the favorite. You hate the clique of appearance-obsessed teen vacationistas who lay claim to the shores of Mountain Lake every summer. And you hate that you’re one of them.”

She frowns and looks ready to disagree, so I grip her throat more firmly.

“You say yes to all their stupid ideas, and you specialize in pretty smiles that make them think you’re having fun,” I say, calling out her denial. “Nobody cares that none of your smiles are real, and it kills you. You’re so lonely, you go looking for love anywhere you think you might find it.”

I stroke her juicy cunt, streak my slick fingers down her thigh, and then roughly hike her leg higher to bare her more fully. “What possessed you to come looking my way, Princess?”

She searches my face, as if she doesn’t understand the question.

I slide my fingers back and forth through her slippery folds. “I’m not meant for you, precious girl,” I growl. “I’m not for any girl from your side of town, where people walk tall and flash their shiny teeth and wallets all summer long, until they go back to their real houses or prep the chalet for ski season, or whatever the fuck you people do while I’m stealing anything you forgot to nail down before you left. Your neighbors are all doctors and lawyers and investment bankers. I squat in an abandoned cabin, take what catches my eye, fight drunks for extra cash, and eat roadkill when hunting and trapping don’t provide. A girl like you should never even imagine slumming it with me, Amanda Warren. I mean, what if you catch ugly or poor?”

I stroke her more firmly, and she meets me with pressure of her own. She seems to crave my touch, despite my lecture about why she shouldn’t be with me. The only time she looks slightly uncomfortable, is when her throat pushes into my palm as she swallows, but she doesn’t ask me to remove it.

I loosen my grip. “Exactly how old are you, little bird?”

“Eighteen,” she whispers.

I clack my tongue against the roof of my mouth. “Eighteen, and convinced you should be prey.” I tut-tut as I shake my head. “Did nobody teach you that life is fucking precious? That, no matter how hard it feels, you get up and you keep going, because too many others don’t get the fucking choice? Life is for living, Mandi. Don’t you fucking know that?”

She gives me silence, when I want answers.

“Obviously, not,” I growl, shaking her. “Why else would you bring your stepdad into my neck of the woods — where no princess should ever dare go — and try to seduce us both? You don’t even fight me off, when you can see I came to take the bait you laid out?”

I lift my hand from her throat, to let her speak, but she refuses. I wait. Watching.

Though there’s no longer any obstruction, she swallows with obvious difficulty and remains quiet.

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