Page 82 of Ravens
I pull my sweater off. “If you’re going to fuck me, you can look me in the eye while you do it.”
“I can barely see you either way,” he pants out. “So, I don’t give a shit.”
He grabs my face, and his mouth crashes into mine, his tongue probing deeply as I wrap my arms around his neck and start tugging at his shirt. Breaking the kiss, he leans back and tugs it overhead.
“Take these off, or I’ll rip them off.” He pulls at my tights.
I shove the socks off and roll the tights down, slipping my feet out as the sound of his zipper opening fills the air.
Grabbing my thighs, he hauls me up and pins me to the tree. “Do you always fuck people you hate?”
“You’re the first,” I whisper, nuzzling into his face and tugging at his lip with my teeth.
“I still fucking loathe you.”
“Prove it,” I whisper.
I watch his mouth in the dark, a shadow of a smile as he leans into me, and his cock crowns me slowly. Without warning, he pulls out entirely and then drives back into me hard.
“Fuck!” I cry out in the dark.
The bark digs into my back as he angrily drives his body into mine. William is not a small man in any sense, and I groan as he uses me without a fucking care for anything else.
“Are you used to this?” he pants out. “As a pussy for hire?”
I grab him by the back of the hair and jerk his mouth away from me. He shakes his head, trying to free himself as he pulls against my grip until his lips are near my ear and bits of hair are coming free in my fist. “I mean getting railed like a slut.”
I let go of his hair and smile as my orgasm stirs. “York broke me in,” I say venomously in his ear. “But he spanks and chokes me until I come because . . . he knows what he’s doing.”
“Bitch,” he breathes into my neck, and my back arches as the heat between my thighs spikes into my hips. “That’s it, tighten up . . . Teach this cock a lesson.”
Jesus, he’s worse than York. My hips jerk as the tension snaps, and I cry out, clutching the back of his neck as I slid back and forth on his cock, riding out the ecstasy of the moment.
“So fucking tight,” he groans. “You have no right to be so tight.”
I keep riding the wave, trying to get closer until he grabs my hips and yanks me forward. My breathing stutters as he buries himself with a shout, and I clutch his back, the muscles tightening beneath my hands as my nails dig into him, and hegroans. His thrusts slow with strained breaths puffed against the side of my neck.
We hang there for a moment, with my legs still wrapped around him as his dead weight pushes me into the tree. What the fuck is wrong with me? Sure, it felt good, really good . . . intense . . . but now the thought of York lying in my bed begins polluting my head.
I’m not his. He’s not mine . . . I’ve agreed to nothing. I’ve promised myself I’d run. I told him I would likely run. It’s unfortunate that sometimes we grow a conscience when we aren’t paying attention.
“Get away.” I push against William’s shoulders.
Lazily, he leans back, and I lower my legs without waiting for him to make room before snatching up my sweater and pulling it over my head. My teeth chatter as I tug my tights on, and he takes his time pulling on his shirt in the shadows. I can’t really see him out here . . . but I felt enough to know he looks good naked. Very good.
By the time I’ve jammed my feet into my grimy, damp wool socks, I wish I was a million miles away from all of this. My breath floats on the air as I start back to the house without a word, picking my way through the field as I shiver harder. Stripping down to nothing outside in fall in Maine was a bad fucking idea.
Talk about desperation.
The house glows in the distance, surrounded by the shadows of large old trees, and beyond that, a void of nothingness.Darkness. I’m happy the moon wasn’t out to shed even its faintest light on that scene. Although . . . maybe if I could have seen more, I would’ve stopped myself.
Swiping my hair back from my face, I sniffle, rubbing my nose as I struggle to warm up.
“Are you crying?” William asks, not far behind me.
I laugh. “No. I’m freezing.”
Then I pitch forward, sweater-covered hands smashing into the soggy grass with a yelp as a sharp pain fires through the ball of my foot, and I curse.
