Page 12 of Red Flag Bull

“You’re pretty and perfect and precious,” I continue, “but here you are, spreading yourself for any wrong man’s cock. You want to be ruined. You want a monster between your legs.”

She doesn’t deny it. She’s too busy trying to coax my dick inside her cunt. I’m so close now, her heat is drawing me in. I slowly slide the broad head of my cock against her pussy, parting the lips. There’s no denying how aroused we are, and it feels incredible to be this close to a woman who wants to be this close to me.

“Why?” I demand to know. “Why do you want bad men to make you their whore?”

She tenses her jaw against my fingers, and she squeezes her eyes shut, avoiding my glare.

“Should I guess?” I renew my grip on her throat, and then mill her clit until she’s wide eyed and desperate for breath. I give her no quarter, and she refuses to ask for it.

“You’re tired,” I whisper, dragging the tip of my nose along her cheek and into her hair. “Tired of working so hard for so little recognition. They’re starving you of affection, so you came out here, begging for scraps.”

I tug at her earlobe with my teeth, and she rocks her hips hard, to press into the hand she’s soaking as I pleasured her with it. “Attention feels good,” I say with a smile. “Doesn’t it, Princess?”

It wasn’t really a question that needed an answer, but she utters a raspy yes and hooks her leg around mine, to draw me closer.

The attempt to control me is pointless. I’m stronger, and I hold my position. Keeping her wanting.

“We’re not done talking,” I inform her with a low rumble.

She tries to stare me down, and I laugh. “Quit glaring at me like these uncomfortable truths are crueler than anything else. Like holding you hostage in the forest and stroking you into a vulnerable, fuckable mess isn’t the worst thing I’m doing to you.” I lean in, crushing her with my weight before withdrawing my hand from between her legs, to deprive her of the touch she craves.

Her moans became pained, and she fights to gain more friction, her body arching into mine.

I subdue her effortlessly and make it difficult for her to pursue any pleasure. “You need to learn who’s in charge.”

She continues to exert energy to no avail, and I smirk. My cock strains against her thigh, so she knows I’m enjoying myself, and she seems eager to find my breaking point. She does all she can to entice me, but I only look down at her and raise one eyebrow.

The muscles in her jaw tense, as she grits her teeth and glares at me, before she finally gives up completely. She wilts beneath me, and I loosen my holds enough for her to take deeper breaths and take advantage of the freedom.

She remains where she is. “Do what you want, then,” she mutters.

“I will,” I assure her with a wicked smile. “But why would you let an asshole like me take control of your perfect little body? Do you hurt so much inside that you need the outside to match, so things will make sense? You think I’ll do that for you? Brutalize you?”

A shiver runs through her at the suggestion, and my cock-head swells at her entrance in response.

Do we both want to bring her pain?

Mandi makes an uninspired bid for freedom. Perhaps testing, to see if this is a game we might play.

I rise over her, and I strain against her soaked curls, ready to take her. Her slick has doused my cock, mixing with the pre-cum welling from its eye.

I’m going to shove it inside her. It’s only a matter of time.

Emotionally, she’s already mine, and the blessed privilege is overwhelming.

I hold her gaze and rock my body into hers, creating the motion of sex without penetration.

It’s a challenge — a question of whether or not she’ll follow my lead and what she’s willing to do.

She moves with me, a whore for the attention I give.

I increase my speed, my power, urging us into a rough, seductive rhythm on the damp, mossy ground.

She stays in my flow.

We move together, and no matter how stern my glare, she refuses to look away.

“I see you, Mandi Warren,” I say in a low, authoritative tone. “Everyone else sees a pretty little rich girl, whose daddies earn enough to pay for anything. But money can’t buy what you really want. Can it, Princess?” I grip her hair and tug her head back roughly enough to make her hiss.

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