Page 78 of Eight Second Hearts

He hisses through his teeth as I swirl my tongue around the head. “What I wouldn’t give to see you do this to one of the others,” he groans.

I freeze, mostly because none of us have talked about it, but also. . . fuck if that isn’t the hottest thing someone has ever said to me. The beep sounds, and I start to sit up, but his hand on the back of my head suddenly keeps me down.

“I’ve got you,” he grunts. “Just don’t fuckin’ stop.”

So, I don’t. I slide down his cock and suck him deep, stroking him with my tongue. He leans forward, one of his arms grabbing the leather strap from between my legs, an anchor to keep us on the bull. His arm presses against my aching pussy, making me want to grind back against him just for a little bit of relief. His other hand grips a handful of my hair as he starts to grind his hips with the movements of the bull. My own hands wrap into the jeans at his thighs, holding on for dear life as I suck him while we ride a mechanical bull. What a sight we probably make right about now.

I don’t even count this time. The eight seconds go by so fast, I barely notice, not until the bull stops. The moment it does, he jerks me upright and slams his lips to mine in a kiss that feels half desperate and half insanity.

“I need you,” he growls against my lips. His hand cups me through my jeans. “I need this sopping wet pussy wrapped around me right now.”

“Yes,” I hiss, just as hungry for him as he is for me.

His hands drop to the fastenings of my jeans, jerking them open before doing the same to the zipper. It’s all aggression, all desperate hunger as he lifts my hips and starts peeling my jeans from my legs. He doesn’t bother going in layers, he grabs everything, underwear and all, and jerks them down, doing his best to get them off my legs while we both still straddle the bull. Meanwhile, his lips leave marks across my chest, his teeth nipping gently before he seals his lips around my nipple and sucks.

My back bows as he lavishes attention on one breast before moving to the other, his teeth leaving tiny little marks behind.

“You tryin’ to stake a claim?” I breathe, my hands tracing every inch of skin I can reach.

He leans up, his eyes flickering between mine and my neck. “I gotta leave some good ones behind to cancel out the bad,” he admits. He finally manages to strip me bare and I’m sitting naked on the mechanical bull. “I gotta make amends.”

He shoves me back on the mechanical bull, the worn leather pressing into my skin. My head hangs off the bull and I’m not nearly strong enough to keep myself up like Tripp had. That’s okay though. As my hair hangs from the bull and I strain not to fall off completely, the man leans down and presses his lips to my core.

I lose all control of myself.

“Oh!” I gasp, my legs automatically coming up, but he shoves them back open and down with his shoulders, his hands splaying me wide.

He licks up my arousal, humming at the taste of me, at just how wet I am for him. “You were made for this,” he growls against my core. “For us.” His fingers press inside me and curl. “This pussy might as well be branded with our mark.”

My hands clench in his hair, scrapping through the sides of his beard as he eats me so thoroughly, I can barely form a coherent thought. If I could, I’d tell him that no one brands me. But hell, right now, I’d let him do anything he wanted as long as he keeps up the thing he’s doing with his tongue.

His fingers combined with the way he rolls his tongue along my clit drives me off the edge. I cry out as an orgasm rocks me, as my body convulses while his face presses against my pussy. My legs shake. My stomach clenches, and I’m pretty sure I flood his face. I hear his surprised grunt before he snarls and presses his face in deeper, his lips sealing around my clit and sucking. I scream at the intensity of it, my body tightening in angry pleasure as he pulls a longer orgasm from my body like he’s a fucking puppet master.

The beep sounds again, and he jerks me up with his hand on the back of my neck, his other hand pressing me against him by the small of my back.

“Time to ride somethin’ a little different, scribbler,” he snarls as he positions me.

He’s not holding on this time when the bull starts moving, his hand too concerned with lining his cock up with my entrance. He presses the tip in, just the barest amount, as the bull starts to move. Only then does he reach around me and wrap his hand in the leather. His other one, he wraps around my waist and jerks me against him, forcing himself deeper into my body. My arms wrap around him as I cry out, as my legs wrap around his waist, and I start to grind against him. The bull starts to rock and then twist violently, more responsive than it’d been in the beginning. My only thought is that maybe the levels go up the longer we ride, but that thought disappears with the way I jerk against him, with the way his cock feels inside me as the bull rocks us together.

“Fuck me,” he breathes in my ear, his muscles tight as I grind against him during the ride. He keeps us seated on the bull, focusing on that as I take over and fuck him as best as I can. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect, Indie,” he growls, almost angrily. “Why are you so fuckin’ perfect?”

This time, eight seconds feels like forever as I work myself into a frenzy. When the beep sounds, he takes over, shoving me back to start fucking me hard and rough before the bull even stops moving. He’s savage as he pounds into me, his hands holding me down against the leather. He grabs my legs and shoves them backwards, making the angle even better as he fucks me so brutally, I scream with every thrust. He’d never even bothered taking his jeans off. They’re just bunched up around his hips as he fucks the city out of me.

I shatter, squirting around his cock as he pushes my legs as far back as they can go.

He bares his teeth down at me. “If I’d have known you were a squirter, I’d have fucked you a lot sooner,” he snarls, staring down at where I squirt with every thrust. “Fuck yeah. Keep doin’ that for me, scribbler.”

As if I can control it. As if he isn’t the one wringing every ounce of pleasure from my body.

“I need more,” he grunts. “I need everything.”

“Yes,” I hiss, long past caring about anything but the way he fucks me.

“You want me to show you how good I can really ride?” he asks as he continues his brutal fucking. “You want me to ride you like this is the rodeo, scribbler?”

I frantically nod my head, “yes,” though I’m not even sure what I’m agreeing to. I realize within three seconds that I probably should have asked.

Tripp jerks out of me and leaps off the bull, leaving me clutching at the leather to stop myself from falling as he slaps a button on the panel and comes back over.

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