Bounty

9. Colin

Chapter Nine

COLIN

Cain brought her upstairs to the guest room hours ago. I tried to coax her out with dessert and some stargazing, but she didn’t reply. The only thing I heard was her soft crying. I knocked again an hour ago, and heard nothing.

I’m currently watching the security feed in Jude’s office, and she’s curled up in bed, facing away from the hidden camera in her room. Hearing about her mom and aunt, and Jude’s fucking attitude problem, did a number on her. Sometimes I want to punch him in the face, but it’s complicated.

Jude’s the whole reason I have a place at Harvest Farms—he’s a brother to me. When I was seven, he and Father Mannix were driving. Jude saw me walking on the side of the road with no shoes and pointed at me. The truck’s windows were down, and I remember him screaming “Dad, that boy– he looks sick and he doesn’t have shoes!”

I had run away from home four days prior, and unless I wanted to die, I didn’t have time to find my shoes. My father had already beat me to a pulp and I knew if I stuck around, he’d kill me. Walking in the sun had burnt my skin, dehydrating me. I hadn’t eaten for days, and I felt like I was about to pass out. Father Mannix immediately pulled the car over and asked me what happened.

I hid my father’s abuse for so many years, shrugging it off and lying about the bruises and injuries he caused. But something told me to trust him, so I told him everything. I remember his response like it was yesterday.

“Son, do you want a new home, a big family that treats you right?”

“Yes,” I cried, wiping my nose and wincing because it was broken again.

“If you join my family, you’ll always have a job. A home. A place of your own. But once you join, you can never leave. Do you understand that?”

To a seven year old boy, a big forever family that treated me right sounded like a dream—like the home I’d always wanted. I didn’t understand that my family would be a cult, and our job would be running guns. That my home would be a farm covering up illicit activity. And that forever meant for life.

Even if I had known, I wouldn’t change a thing—this life may be dangerous, but it brought me everything, including my little flower. For that I will be forever grateful.

Being apart from her, after finally having her in my life again, feels like an aching pain gnawing at me from the inside. I need to see her like I need air to breathe. I can’t keep watching her on a screen when I’m so close to her now.

I take the skeleton key out of Jude’s desk, then run upstairs. Each step renews my determination. Nothing is going to stand between me and my little flower–not a door, or walls, or the weight of my mistakes. Fuck giving her another chance to deny me.

I open the door and let myself in. She rolls over, her face red and swollen around her eyes from crying.

“What you said downstairs isn’t true.”

“ What ?” she croaks.

Her voice is raw with grief and loss. In a way, she’s losing Crystal and Norma a second time. It doesn’t help that the three of us just steamrolled our way into her life again, not that I feel any remorse over it.

“You said you were alone now that your mom and aunt are gone—and you may feel that way right now—but you’ll never be alone again.” I sit next to her on the bed, gathering her in my arms and facing her toward me. “You’re mine, Wisteria Jean Flowers.”

She tries to push my arms away, but I hold onto her tight. I’ll never let her go again.

“I don’t even know who I am. My whole life is a lie, and the only people I cared about who are still living ghosted me.” Her acidic tone thrums with a barely contained rage, the same rage she held back at the dining table. “I may as well have been dead to you! You abandoned me .” She chokes her words out between sniffles and tears, slapping at my hands.

She can fight me to her dying breath, push me away as hard and as far as she can. But I’ll always come back to her. She needs to understand that.

“I’m sorry—it was the worst mistake of my life. I thought I was doing right by you, keeping you safe. You need to know every day I spent away from you, a little part of me died. Even when Cain and I drove up to check on you, just seeing you wasn’t enough. I never got over you or touched another woman since you left. I thought of you every fucking day and dreamt about you every night.”

Thoughts of her were the only things that kept me human in her absence. I almost slip and tell her, but she doesn’t need to know about all the gruesome things I did for the farm—all the blood I spilled. How I begged the stars every night to bring her home so I could find solace in her presence. I rather her not know the kind of man I’ve become since she was casted out.

I hold her tighter instead of crying my own tears, because she needs me to be strong for her. She needs me to take her pain away, not add to it.

“There are no words that can describe how fucking awful it was to be apart from you, and I’m done trying to tell you.”

Wrapping her hair around my fist, I angle her head up and devour her mouth. My tongue parts her lips, sliding inside to taste her. What we did in the bathroom yesterday wasn’t enough; it only made me insatiable for her. She’s decadent. Delicious. The way I imagine forever tastes like.

Wisteria may not know it, and it may take her time to accept it, but she’s mine.

She’s mine. She’s Cain’s. And when Jude can beat his own demons, he’ll realize she belongs to him too.

She wraps her arms around my neck, taking everything I give her. I nip her lip, then collar her throat and push her back down on the bed.

I put a bit of my weight on top of her to hold her down. She writhes against me, fueling my inner beast with every stroke of her tongue on my own. He’s drawn to the fire inside her—wants to stoke it and burn the fucking world down.

“You’re mine,” I repeat as I break our kiss to take my shirt off. I unbuckle my pants and pull them down enough to free my cock from my boxer briefs.

“I never agreed to be yours,” she gasps as I kiss along her neck, sucking at the place right below her ear that drives her wild. I drive my hardness into her clothed core, to give her a preview of what she’ll feel later.

“You don’t have to agree; it’s meant to be, little flower,” I rip her threadbare sweatshirt in half down the middle, exposing her perfect round tits and soft stomach.

“I fucking hate you for what you did to me,” she rasps as I trace my tongue around her nipple, then bite it before sucking it into my mouth. I pull from it, draining her essence away, consuming her pureness to keep my inner beast at bay. The desperate, primal hunger controlling me wants to have her in every possible way.

I part from her, looking her square in the eye. “If you hate me so much, tell me you don’t want me, and I’ll accept it, no protest. But don’t fucking lie to me, or yourself.”

Wisteria Jean’s violet irises buzz with deep, overwhelming emotions. A tear falls down her cheek before she grabs my shoulders and yanks me back down, wrapping her thick, milky thighs around my waist. My heart explodes as pure euphoria races through my veins. I rip her leggings and underwear clean off, throwing the torn clothing into the corner of the room.

“That was your only chance, little flower. You’re all mine now, and I’ll never let you leave a second time.” My voice rumbles, and the intensity of it is foreign to me, as if every promise I’ve ever made before this was child’s play. “I’ll never let you escape.”

Thinking of all the nights I went without touching her drives me insane and wears on my already weak self control. Moving down her body, I kiss her breasts, her stomach, and her belly button, making up for all the lost time. I love her body, every fucking curve. I missed her soft, creamy skin. When I reach her pussy, I look up at her sparkling eyes, and pouting lips. She angles her hips toward my face, but I hold them down, making her whine.

“You seem frustrated,” I observe, smirking at the beautiful woman beneath me.

“ Colin ,” she breathes, trying to pry my hands off her.

“What do you want?” I ask her. “Tell me how you want me to touch your tight, wet pussy, little flower. How do you want me to make you come?”

“Please, keep going,” she begs.

“No. I want to hear your sweet voice say those dirty words. You’re going to be my bad girl, and then I’m gonna treat you like one.”

“Please, eat my cunt,” she cries out.

“Language,” I comment as I slap her pussy.

She jolts in surprise, her eyes going wide as her parted lips inhale deep. I slap it a second time, and she gasps. I lick her from hole to clit, then lap at her folds slowly, torturing her with small bursts of pleasure. If she wants more, she needs to start talking.

“Colin!” she yells. “Please, please!”

“You weren’t very descriptive…”

Toying with her takes my remaining self control. I want so badly to slam inside her heat—to be home once more—but being inside her will be so much sweeter if I break her first.

“If you want to come all over my face, I suggest you start talking,” I prompt her.

“I want you to lick my clit, and eat my pussy until I’m shaking,” she moans.

I lick and suck at her clit until her legs start to shake. Then I ease off.

“Please, please, please Colin, use your fingers,” she yells. Her face is flushed with desire and lust.

I slide one finger inside her, fucking it into her slowly as my thumb rubs her little bundle of nerves. Her hips move as she makes little whines and whimpers that go straight to my inner beast. He wants to rip her apart.

I put a second finger inside her, scissoring them in her snug pussy, and she lifts her hips off the bed, fucking herself onto them like a fiend. I lean in to suck her clit, flicking it with my tongue as her moans dance throughout the room.

“What do you want, you bad, dirty girl? Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to make me feel so good I come all over your face. Then I want you to flip me over and fuck me. Own me!”

“My little flower is such a filthy slut. My perfect, dirty girl.”

I consume her, taking her apart piece by piece and drowning her in pleasure. She rides my fingers as I suck down on her clit. Her thighs tense and clamp around my head right before her sweetness drenches my face.

“Yes,” I growl. “Fuck yes.”

I use my tongue to lap up every fucking drop, and my control finally snaps. I lick her more, caressing her folds until she’s hurtling toward another orgasm. I’d eat her out all day everyday. Fucking tie her to the bed and treat her like my personal buffet.

But I need to be inside her right now. She’s so close to going over the edge, I can see it in her eyes. And when she does go, I want to be inside her–I need to feel her pussy strangle my cock.

I stop, shucking my pants off. “Get on your hands and knees, now.”

Wasting no time dragging her to the edge of the bed, I stand behind her and slam home. Fuck . Fuck, she feels like a vise. A good man would give her time to adjust. I have no clue what she’s used to, or what she can handle now. But then I think about how she may have had another lover since she was exiled. Wisteria Jean is beautiful, so she most likely has. The thought of a man other than Cain or Jude touching her makes me fucking feral.

I thrust into her hard and deep without holding back, erasing any other men who touched my little flower, spoke to her, so much as thought about her. She’s mine and I’ll fucking fight to the death for her.

“Colin, oh fuck. Oh my god. Oooh!” she babbles. The way she incoherently slurs her words is music to my ears.

“You like that?” I growl at her. “Tell me.”

“Yes, oh my–yes! I love it, Colin,” she screams.

I collar her throat, pulling her off the bed, until her back is flush with my chest. Pounding into her harder and harder I whisper in her ear, “I love the sound of your voice when I’m fucking you. I love how your tight heat milks me for everything I’ve got. I love having you back in my arms where you belong.”

She clamps down on me as she finally plunges over the edge and takes me with her. We collapse on the bed in a panting, sweaty mess with me still inside her. I don’t want any of my seed spilling out.

Maybe it’ll stick.

“You still hate me?” I ask her.

“No…” she huffs, as if she’s put out by it. My little flower was always a coy cat who could be persuaded with dick.

“Good, because if you ever say that to me again, you won’t enjoy the result.”

My bratty little flower peers over her shoulder at me with a mischievous smile on her face. A smile I waited years to see again. I bet she’s already thinking of ways to push my buttons so she can see just how bad the punishment is.

If I have it my way, I’ll see that smile every day for the rest of my life.