Page 16 of The Highwaymen

My wandering hands dipped lower, skimming over his abs to the trail of hair disappearing into his open jeans. I freed his soft cock, admiring it. Even flaccid, it was impressive - thick and meaty, with a plump head. I knew intimately how it felt splitting me open, impaling me, wrecking me.

I wrapped my fingers around Stu's cock, giving it a few languid strokes. It began to firm up, twitching and swelling in my grasp as blood rushed in. I watched, fascinated, as it grew to its full imposing size, standing tall and engorged. The broad head glistened with a pearly bead of pre-cum.

My own cock was hard and aching between my legs. I wanted him, but not like I’d had him before. This time, I wanted to own him, to use him, to claim and command him and make his body my plaything. I ground my hips down, rubbing my rigid cock against his.

The friction sent sparks of pleasure racing up my spine. I rocked against him harder, savoring the slide of hot, hard flesh on flesh. My blood was up, the lingering adrenaline from the hunt transmuting into a darker, hungrier arousal.

A low groan rumbled in Stu's chest. His eyelids fluttered, then cracked open, hazy with sleep and confusion. “Wha…” he mumbled, voice rough with drowsiness.

“Shh. Just let me, Stu. Just let me.” I leaned down and captured his lips in a searing kiss, swallowing his questions. He tensed for a moment, startled, but then relaxed.

His lips parted under mine, inviting me deeper. I licked into his mouth, greedy for his taste. Stu's big hands came up to grip my hips, his fingers digging into thebruises he'd left earlier. I moaned into the kiss, pain and pleasure blurring together.

I broke away to trail biting kisses down his jaw, his throat, tasting salt and smoke on his skin. Stu tilted his head back with a throaty groan, baring more of his neck to my questing mouth. I sucked hard at his pulse point, relishing the way it jumped beneath my lips. Wanting to mark him, claim him.

“Fuck, someone’s eager,” Stu rasped out, sleep-roughened voice sending shivers down my spine. Then his eyes raked over me. “Whose blood is that?”

“Nobody important.” I sat back on my haunches, Stu's cock jutting up obscenely between my spread thighs. I reached behind myself, finding my hole still slick and open from earlier. I sank two fingers inside, scissoring them, making sure I was ready. The aching stretch made me hiss through clenched teeth.

I positioned myself over Stu's rigid cock, the swollen head nudging against my stretched hole. “Just lie there,” I breathed, my voice ragged with need. “Don't move, don't touch me. Let me use you.”

Stu's brow furrowed, confusion and hesitation warring in his eyes. “What're you on about? I thought you wanted—”

“Please,” I cut him off, an edge of desperation creeping into my tone. “I need this. I need to be in control. Just... just pretend you're asleep. Or dead. Let me take what I need.”

Understanding dawned on his face, followed by a flicker of uncertainty. For a long moment, he searched my face, trying to read me. I held his gaze, letting him see the raw hunger, the yawning emptiness, the shattered pieces of my psyche.

Stu let his hands fall away from my hips to lie slack at his sides. He went limp beneath me, his face going lax, eyelids drooping shut. Only the rapidrise and fall of his chest and the rigid heat of his cock betrayed any sign of life.

Fuck, that shouldn't have been as hot as it was.

I sank down onto Stu's hard cock in one smooth glide, letting gravity impale me on his thick length. A broken moan clawed its way out of my throat as I was split open, filled to the brim. The burn and stretch were exquisite, skirting the knife's edge between pleasure and pain.

I started to move, undulating my hips, fucking myself on Stu's rigid cock. His hands remained slack at his sides, even as his breathing grew harsh and uneven. But he kept up the illusion, kept his body loose and pliant beneath me, a warm, living sex doll for me to use.

It was a relief, being in control like this. Taking what I needed, chasing my pleasure on my own terms. No one pawing at me, no demands being made of my body. Just the slick slide of Stu's cock in my ass and the coiled tension building at the base of my spine.

I rode him harder, faster, the obscene slap of skin on skin echoing off the thin motel walls. Sweat beaded on my skin, mingling with the tackiness of drying blood. The coppery scent filled my nostrils, sending arousal spiking through my veins.

I ground down on Stu's rigid cock, taking him deep, the stretch and burn sending sparks of pleasure racing up my spine. I clutched at his chest for balance, my fingers digging into sweat-slick skin. His heart pounded beneath my palm, betraying his excitement despite his feigned sleep.

I chased my pleasure, savoring the obscene sounds of his cock pumping into my slick hole. My own erection bobbed against my stomach, smearing sticky trails of pre-cum across my skin with every roll of my hips. The simmering arousal in my veins was edged withsomething sharper, hungrier - the heady rush of bloodlust blending with raw carnal need.

The memories of the dead trucker, of hot arterial blood spraying across my face and chest, swirled behind my closed eyelids. I could almost feel the warm wetness painting my skin again, could almost taste the coppery tang on my tongue. My hips snapped forward faster, harder, chasing that high. Needing it.

Beneath me, Stu remained still and compliant, letting me take my pleasure. But his cock throbbed inside me, rock hard and pulsing with barely contained need. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, the tendons standing out starkly.

The effort it must’ve taken to keep up the act… But God, he was good.

I leaned down, changing the angle, taking Stu impossibly deeper. A low groan rumbled up from his chest before he could catch it. I clenched tight around him in warning and his face went slack again, playing possum. His cock jumped inside me, betraying how close he was. How much he was holding back.

Fuck, the control he was giving me, the trust... It was headier than the most potent drug. I owned him in this moment, this ruthless, brutal man, putty in my hands. Pliant and submissive, just for me. Because I needed it.

And oh, I needed it. Needed to cleanse myself of phantom groping hands and grunting rutting and the echo of cruel laughter. Needed to paint over those ugly broken parts inside me with pleasure and power. I lost myself in the slap of flesh and filthy squelch and the coiling tension winding tighter in my core.

Stu's breath came harsh and fast, sweat beading on his brow, but still he stayed motionless. Let me chase my high on his body, use him raw. Let me take back control.

My rhythm faltered, hips jerking erratically as I neared the edge. Pressure built at the base of my spine, throbbing in time with my racing pulse. Stu's cock was an iron bar inside me, unyielding. I could feel him throbbing, knew he must be close.

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