Page 40 of Red Flag Bull

I let her nipple slip from my mouth, and then hold myself up, so I can watch her breasts jiggle while I fuck her. She stares up at me the whole time, clearly aware that I’m intentionally depriving her of what she wants.

She squirms against me as best she can to get herself off, but I hold her down in the dirt and pull out, leaving her with nothing to abuse.

“You’ll get yours in good time.” I hold her wrists pinned over her head with one hand and pull the cuffs and some cord I bought at our rest stop from my jacket’s inside pocket with the other. I set them on a rock next to her face. “Do I need them?”

She wets her lips, and I can see the careful consideration in her eyes. She loves to be helpless when she comes. She loves having no choice. The shame isn’t hers to bear if she doesn’t choose to be my depraved little slut.

She tenses her jaw, tests the strength of my holds to find them unshakable, and then shakes her head.

“What if I release you?” I ask. “Will you do as you’re told, or will I have to tie you into position?”

“I’ll be good,” she whispers.

“Of course you will.” I kiss her forehead. “Because good girls get rewarded.”

I pull my weight off her, and she panics a little, grabbing at me to stay as she whimpers. I quiet her with a one-hand necklace around her throat. “Hands off me, Princess.”

She drops them, and I nod in approval, even though she looks ready to cry. “Knees up,” I say, giving her a task to focus on. “Hands under thighs. Spread yourself wide.”

She does as ordered, and I push inside her again, loving the way she feels around my cock as much as the sight of her, helpless beneath me. She’s going to hate me when I leave her wanting.

I remove my hand from her throat and lift her ass from the ground, so I can plunder her depths hard before pulling out and pressing the tip to her hot little entrance.

Her eyes are huge, as she watches me pump my cock at her hole without pushing inside. She gets all restless, shifting her ass and making wet little smacking sounds with her cunt. It gets my balls so fucking ready to let go.

My cock bucks wildly in my hand, and I nudge its fat head at her, until I’m notched just inside.

“Please.” She holds herself open for me perfectly, while I jack myself with her juices. “Please.”

“You’ll get what I give you,” I grind out, as I tense all over. The orgasm shakes itself loose from the grip of my lower abs, and pleasure radiates through my body, to explode from my cock at speed. Cum jets into her depths in rough bursts, and her pussy gobbles it up, taking everything. My mind numbs every emotion but gratitude, as I pulse the last of my seed into her slick heat, to incubate.

Her thighs tremble, and I slap her ass when she looks ready to let go of her legs and kick me away. “Stay,” I growl at her. “Take it all.”

She utters a soft, whimper-ish sound, and I slap her ass again. “Do you think I’ve forgotten your pleasure? I haven’t.” I squeeze my cock and stroke downward into her pussy, to give her the last of my seed, then I tuck my dick back inside my leathers and zip up the fly. “Do you deserve to come?”

Her eyes fill with tears, and her chin quivers.

Is she going to say no?

What the fuck did she do that makes her feel so unworthy? Why does she ask for mercy, and then submit herself for punishment at my hand? Because we’re past dealing with the guilt and shame she had about fucking her sister’s husband. That may have been the tipping point that screwed up her situation and pushed her to come find me, but this other thing? It’s personal. Between us.

“Don’t answer,” I say when she opens her mouth. “I’ll decide.”

She presses her lips together, and a single tear along her cheek and down her ear, to fall in the damp earth.

I rub my finger over it, turning it to mud. I use it to draw the shape of a heart on her forehead, where she can’t see, and then I spit on the dirt to make more mud and smear that over her body in streaks, so it looks like I’ve clawed her.

She doesn’t cringe or shy away from the degradation. She accepts it. Feels deserving of it. I could probably fucking piss in her mouth and make her drink it.

Part of me wants to.

Part of me hates her, for the horrible thing she’s keeping from me, but a bigger part hates me, for making it so difficult for her to tell me. Apparently, I don’t make it the regular kind of hard. I’ve made it twenty-years-of-avoiding-me hard.

Was I that much of a monster, back then? If I was, she was right to leave.

I’ll do better this time.

I pull the brown paper bag from my inside pocket and take out the gift I bought her.

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