Page 221 of Ride With Me

And he keeps thrusting and shoving and pushing. In and out of me, grinding over my prostate, sanding over all the weaknesses and rough spots in my body and mind and psyche.

“That’s it,” he says. He drags his big hands down my back and sides, a heavy weight along either side of my spine, and slows down a little. “Just take it, boy. Give in and take all of me.”

So, I do. There’s nowhere else to go and I can’t do anything else.

Something inside my head explodes and my vision whites out completely. I’m quivering in my restraints and he’s still pounding into me. My hole is sore and inflamed and it hurtsso good, like a bone-deep itch that he’s scratching in just the right way.

His thrusts increase in speed and intensity and his hands are everywhere, holding me down, pulling my cheeks farther apart. He cups my caged cock and finally stiffens, his hips flush against my sore ass.

He groans, loud and long, and I can feel his cock pulse inside me. “That’s it, boy. I’m done with you now.”

Which is when I tip over into the longest, most intense, drawn-out orgasm of my entire life. I’m coming for hours, it seems, or days, maybe, and I’m vaguely aware of a whining sound that I guess is me because Sir is whispering in my ear. I can’t make out what he’s saying, but it sounds approving and that’s what I want more than anything—to be whatever he wants me to be.

When I think it’s over, there’s a cool puff of air at my spread open hole and warm fingers caressing my cock and balls. He’s unlocked the cage and is gently removing it.

All the blood in my body rushes to my cock. “No, please,” I whimper. It’s too sensitive.

“Yes,” he says, implacable.

There’s lube and come dribbling out of my hole and I think he swipes his fingers through the mess because when he wraps his hand around my dick, it’s wet and slippery, and if I weren’t already lying down, tied to this bench, I’d fall over and faint from the lack of blood anywhere but filling my cock.

He jacks me with one hand, fast and brutal, and the fingertips of his other hand trail lightly over my balls. He tugs on them, not enough to hurt, but enough for me tofeelit. And thenhe scoops up the wetness leaking over my taint and shoves two fingers inside my hole.

I come again, hard enough that the straps holding me down dig into my skin. This one is short but intense, sparks flickering behind my closed eyes.

He lets go of my dick as soon as it stops pulsing but cups his open hand over my hole. The aftershocks eventually fizzle out and my breathing gradually returns to normal.

I don’t know how long he lets me lie there. I’ve totally lost track of time. It could be next week, for all I know. There are soft sounds around me—footsteps around the bench I’m strapped to, running water in the distance, a rustling sound like he’s digging through the duffel bag he brought with us into the cabin, an ominous metallic clinking noise.

At some point, I feel him squat next to me at the head of the bench. Through my half-open eyes, I can see his spread knees. He’s still wearing the same nice slacks he was wearing when he picked me up at the side of the road. I wonder how he managed to fuck me so hard without getting lube and come all over the expensive fabric.

He brings his face next to my ear. “How are you doing there, boy? Ready for more?”

I shake my head. “Red,” I murmur without thinking of the consequences.

CHAPTER 10

I jerkmy eyes open and try to lift and turn my head to search for his. Shit.Redis my safe word and even though Logan told me I could use it any time today, I totally wasn’t going to.

“I didn’t mean…Green, Sir. I’m good, Sir, really. It’s just…”

My thoughts are in a complete jumble and I’m struggling to piece them together. I’m exhausted, but I really, really don’t want to disappoint him.

“No. I think we’re done with this scene, baby.” His voice is firm, but kind. Way kinder than it’s been since I got into his car. And he doesn’t sound disappointed at all.

I sigh and there’s a curl of relief in my belly, if I’m honest. “Yeah, okay.”

He smooths my damp hair back from my sweaty face. “Let’s get you cleaned up, sweetheart.”

Sir has left the building and it’s my Daddy here now. I snicker quietly to myself while that sentence repeats itself in my head—Sir has left the building—all serious-sounding and whatever.

Damn, I am loopy. The aftermath of an intense scene, I guess.

Logan’s footsteps recede and there’s the faint sound of running water in the distance. I close my eyes and just drift in the quiet peace.

He comes back and the washcloth is warm. I think he’s got a basin with him or something, because it stays warm and water trickles into something in between swipes of the terrycloth over my sweaty skin. He cleans everything, loosens the straps around my forearms and legs, but pats me gently between my shoulder blades and says, “Stay still for another minute, baby.”

When he comes back again, he smooths a soothing lotion over my blistered ass and thighs. Only then does he help me push up from the bench. I sway a little when I get to my feet—I’ve been strapped down long enough that my legs feel a little wobbly. He puts my hands on the bench to steady me while he wipes down my chest and stomach and cleans everything else.

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