Page 6 of Deviant

I heard movement inside the tent as I leaned over the fire and flipped a strip of bacon. A few seconds later, a zipper sounded. I didn’t need to glance at Alex to know she was standing mere feet away with her dark curls tangled from the onslaught of my fingers last night as I fucked the hell out of her. And her neck…

Fuck, I couldn’tnotlook now. Ignoring the sizzling food, I stared at her throat. Red splotches circled her creamy neck where my fingers had gripped her last night in the throes of sex and madness.

“Good morning, babe.”

“Morning.” Pulling her flannel close around her body, she sat next to me by the fire on the log we used as a makeshift bench.

Leaning over, I covered her mouth with mine. We’d kissed more times than I could remember, from soft and quick—like this morning—to long and deep and breath-stealing. The way never mattered, never kept me from wanting to push her to her knees and shove my cock between her luscious lips.

If it weren’t for the bacon on the cast iron skillet, demanding my attention, I wouldn’t be having these thoughts, because my dick would already be down her throat.

“Want me to get the eggs?” she asked.

“Sure.”

As I continued turning over strips of bacon, I watched her bend and open the cooler. She had no idea what the sight of her tight ass did to me. She was bare underneath that flannel shirt—just the way I liked her—and I went from thinking about her mouth to drooling over her ass in two seconds flat.

It had been a while since I’d fucked it. Anal wasn’t her favorite thing in the world, so I didn’t take it as often as I liked. But I wanted it.

After the way she’d been shutting me out, not to mention clawing at her skin again, I was inclined to take her ass whether she liked it or not.

She returned with her dainty hands full of eggs. As soon as the bacon came off the skillet, I cracked open all six of them. She divided the smoky strips of meat between two paper plates, and once the eggs formed a bacon-flavored scramble, we dug into our breakfast in comfortable silence.

This had been our life for the last four weeks since we’d hiked to this secluded spot of pine trees on the edge of a lake I loved and she despised.

More like feared.

We’d set up camp and had been fighting and fucking ever since. It was our aphrodisiac, our dance of push and pull. If we didn’t have a reason to argue, we’d find one.

Because that was how we worked.

Passionate arguments that led to passionate punishments.

The latter kept up both sane. She needed the physical pain to chase away her demons, and I needed to dole it out to chase away mine. In that aspect, we were made for each other.

Alex glanced at me, plastic fork halfway to her lips.

“What’s the plan today?”

We could hike, or we could fish. Or we could fuck. We could do all of that, and not necessarily in that order. But today, I had something else in mind. I pinned her with a dark look that never failed to make her wither. She swallowed her bite of eggs with a gulp.

“I’m in trouble, aren’t I?”

“You know the answer to that.”

One thing I loved most about my girl? She never withered for long. Setting her half-eaten plate of breakfast aside, she glowered at me.

“This is bullshit, Rafe. How many times have I begged you to let me in? To talk to me?” She crossed her arms. “It goes both ways.”

“You want to play, huh?” I threw my paper plate into the fire then grabbed her. I tossed her over my shoulder, and her pleas came out in high-pitched shrieks as I stomped toward the edge of the lake.

“Don’t you dare!”

She wasn’t using her playful I-want-you-to-take-control-even-though-I’m-protesting voice. She was all-out pissed, pounding on my bare back as I trudged into the water up to my knees. Shit, it was cold.

With a splash, I dropped her to her feet. Fighting her thrashing arms, I stripped her of that flannel shirt, satisfied once I had her naked and defenseless in front of me. After tossing her shirt to the shore, I grabbed her again, strode several feet into the water, and dove in with her.

We broke the surface at the same time, me shaking the drops from my hair as she sputtered her outrage. She kicked her legs and made for the shore, and I questioned the wisdom in teaching her how to swim.

---