Page 21 of Swallow Your Fear
“You didn’t run very fast, Brynne,” he said, seduction and hunger caressing every word that rolled off his tongue.
His finger hooked in the band of my shorts, and in seconds, they were pooled at my ankles. I only wore my light purple underwear now, and he was staring straight at them.
“Why is that?” he asked. “Did you want to be caught?” He came closer, to the point my nipples brushed his black t-shirt. The slight friction sent flickers of flames through my body. “Did you want me to have my way with this pretty little body of yours?”
I could only breathe, and I pushed my chest out further, aching for my breasts to press against his body.
With my silence, he grabbed one of my nipples between his thumb and pointer finger, pinching slightly. “Answer me.”
“Yes,” I whispered.
I didn’t have to see his face to know he had the slightest smirk pulling at his mouth. He wanted me at his mercy, and I was here willingly.
He released my nipple, tearing my shirt off the rest of the way and tossing it to the ground. He unbuckled something from his belt loop, the object clinking.
“You remember our safe word?” he asked, voice low as he situated the strap on whatever he held.
“Yes.”
“Good.” Then, he brought his hand forward, and tiny pinpricks of pain needled my skin, right over my left breast, and my breath hitched.
He was trailing a spur along my bare skin.
He brought the rowel down, the spiked edges coasting over my nipple. A small moan escaped my lips, and he brought it back over the peaked bud.
“You like that, don’t you, dirty little slut?”
I nodded, biting down on my lip as he trailed it over to the opposite breast. Every tiny spike that bit into my skin made my clit throb, and I wanted so bad to reach between my legs as he had his way with me.
He brought the spur lower, gliding it along my belly. The sensitive part, between my belly button and my pussy, jumped as he drew a figure eight in my skin. His other hand came up to my breast, gripping it just hard enough to where it felt blissful, as he brought the spur lower. He dragged it right along my clit, over the fabric of my panties, and I moaned again, my head falling back.
“Such a needy thing.” He pinched my nipple between his fingers, rolling the rowel up and down, right over my swollen clit. He applied just the right amount of pressure, and I never wanted it to stop.
Bringing the spur back up, he circled my opposite nipple with it, gliding it over the bud every few passes. “Please don’t stop.”
His other hand gripped my breast even harder. “You’re fucking begging for it, Darlin’. That’s a dangerous thing.”
“I don’t care.” My voice was more breath than anything.
“You should.”
He tossed the spur to the ground, releasing my breast, then grabbed my hips, spinning me around so that I wasfacing the stall. My arms twisted as the twine stayed perched on the hook above me.
His hand smoothed over my ass before a crack split through the silence of the barn, his hand leaving a delicious sting on my skin.
“You want to be fucked like a bad little slut, don’t you?”
I hummed my response, perking my ass higher. “I’m on birth control.”
His hand gripped my waist, fingers digging into my skin. Then, he glided his rough palm along my ass, sliding a finger past my hole over my underwear to slide the material aside, sinking the digit into my soaking pussy.
“Fuck, Brynne,” he hissed. “You fucking love this.”
There was no hiding it. I wanted him inside me more than I thought possible.
He yanked my panties down my legs, letting them sit around my ankles along with my shorts. Then, I heard him pull down his zipper. I waited in anticipation as he ran his hand along my ass again, gripping the skin, then glided his thumb closer to my hole, pressing against it. He let spit drip from his lips, the saliva dropping right on the spot.
I fought my thighs as they threatened to clench, and he landed another slap on my cheek. “Keep these legs wide open.” His thumb increased pressure as he circled, wetting the area before slowly inserting the digit. I bit out a moan, a gasp escaping my lips. I’d never gone there with Chase, or any boyfriend for that matter, and I was almost thankful for Booker being the first. He was considerate of the way it might feel for me, making sure the area was wet and he slid in slowly.
