Page 58 of Bull Rush

“No. You’re fucking done.” He grinds out the words through heavy breaths, pinning me into place. He’s able to pull my robe off and untangle me from the nail with ease, making me look like an incapable fawn in comparison. He grabs both of my hands and pins them together with one of his—relentless and thorough in the way he manages me. I can’t even think quickly enough to get out of his grip, and I’m realizing at this moment how much power he’s let me have up until now. How many times he could have just picked me up one-handed and tossed me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing. How easily he could have put me in my place, but he held back. I forgot about this, what it feels like to be with him and let him have control.

I quickly discover what was dangling from his hand at the ridge line.Rope.I feel it, tight and scratchy on my skin as he winds it around my wrists, binding them together.

“Ramsey,” I plead, trying to think of something I can say to mollify him.

“Don’t talk. I don’t want to fucking hear a single word.”

“I’m so—” His hand goes over my mouth, and his lips press to my ear as he pulls the rope tight around my wrists until I hiss out a protest through his fingers.

“Don’t even try to say that word. We both know you’re not.” He nips the shell of my ear, and then he stands, pulling me to my knees by holding onto the rope around my wrists. He takes in my appearance, his eyes grazing over every inch of me. I glance down, seeing that I’ve ripped the lingerie in my struggle with the fence, and one of my breasts is now spillingout over the cup. All of me is covered in dirt and bits of grass, and there are scrapes across my thighs from where I slipped off the fence, little beads of blood pooling where it sliced through my flesh.

He squats down to take a closer look and wipes over it with his thumb. It smears over my skin, and he shakes his head. His green eyes lift to meet mine, ire in them. I can hear his thoughts. The way he’s telling me he told me I’d get hurt doing this, how silly I am, along with more patronizing terms of endearment.

“Was it worth it?”

“To see the look on your face falling back into that chair? Yeah. Yeah, it was.” I laugh just thinking about the surprised little grunt he made as I fled, and he’s anything but amused by it.

He grabs my chin and holds my gaze; the next words sound more like a threat than anything else. “I’m glad you had fun.”

I dart my tongue out over my lower lip, and I can feel the answering flutter of excitement in my stomach and then the warmth of it pooling lower. I’ve been dying for more of this side of him.

TWENTY-SIX

Ramsey

The lookof anticipation on her face and the way her eyes sparkle with the taunt; I’m desperate to fuck her. I’ve fallen straight into her trap. Because this is exactly what she wanted, the thing she begged me for one night when she finally trusted me enough to tell me.

“Bend over. Elbows in the dirt,” I demand. She slides into the position slowly, and I wrap my hand around the back of her neck to press her head down lower.

Her ass is up in the air, looking as perfect as it ever has, with the swell of her cheeks on full display beyond the lace edge of her little scrap of fabric, see-through panties. I wrap my hands around the sides of the elastic on her hips and wrench them down over her thighs. She’s soaked for me already, glistening in the fading light of the setting sun.

“What are you doing?” she asks as I kneel down behind her.

“Kissing your ass, since you asked so nicely.”

She laughs until my lips touch her skin, and then she exhales like I’ve stolen her breath. I kiss her left cheek and then move to her right, running my tongue over the curve, then biting her in soft, gentle nips and scrapes of my teeth until I reach her center again. She tastes like sugar melding with salt as my tongue runs the length of where she parts for me, her legs spreading wider as she whimpers. I fuck her with my tongue, and she rocks back against my face begging for more.

“Oh fuck…” she cries out softly when I use the pads of my fingers to massage her clit. I’m obsessed with the taste of her, lapping up every fucking drop she gives me. She gets louder as I take her closer to the edge, and she begs for me, saying my name over and over and cursing everything in its wake. She sounds so good like this, so perfect that I can’t stop myself when the time comes to pull away.

I’d planned to deny her. To make her suffer for being so careless with her safety and making me chase her out into the night like this, but I’m too fucking in love with the sound of her moans and whimpers. The desperate way she rolls her hips, grinding back against my tongue as my fingers circle tighter around her clit, has me needing to hear her come for me.

“Oh god. Oh please. Ramsey… just a little more, and I think I can,” she pleads, and I’m careful, working her clit with just the right amount of pressure while I let her ride my tongue. I can hear a whimper of frustration from her as she tries to chase it. I pull away for just a moment, squeezing her thigh in reassurance before I slip underneath her and pull her thighs down so she’s straddling my face.

“All the way down, sugar. Ride my tongue as long as you need, and we’ll get you there. I’ve got you,” I promise her.

She does as I ask and grinds down on me while I slide my fingers inside of her, curling them to give her the extra bit of friction she needs as she fucks my face like I’m the last chanceshe’s got at anything good. I can hear the change in her moans, getting closer with each pass she takes over my mouth. One of her hands is loose enough from the rope that she slips it through my hair and tightens, giving her the hold she needs to fuck my mouth harder. A moment later, she’s coming loudly, telling me how good I am in between gasps. She soaks my chin and my beard as she does it, and I think I might have forgotten how good it feels to be used like this. To be nothing but her escape for a night.

She rolls over to my side, tangling her legs with my arms for a moment until we can pull the scrap of fabric meant to be between her thighs back into place. I pull the ropes from her wrists, and she rubs the marks left by them as she stretches her joints again. She takes a deep breath, staring up at the first glimpses of the star-scattered sky, and then her eyes fall to mine.

“I feel like I’m about to pay for that twice over now, aren’t I?” There’s amusement in her tone.

“You’ve got a few more minutes until the taste of you wears off my tongue. Then you’re putting my shirt on, and I’ll give you a thirty-second head start back to the house.” I’m exhausted, and I need the thirty seconds as much as she does.

“And if you catch me?”

“WhenI catch you, then it’s my turn.”

TWENTY-SEVEN

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