Chapter Fourteen #3
“I also”—he keeps rocking into me and I keep rocking back—“don’t stick my dick in a liar.”
“W-what?” I ask, even though what I want to do is throw my head back and moan.
“You lied to me, didn’t you?”
I know I should be more alarmed right now, and I am. But for the life of me, I can’t stop doing what I’m doing. I can’t stop rocking back and forth, side to side as I leak and leak and freaking leak like a faucet.
“You…” I swallow, pulling at his hair, dragging my heels up and down the backs of his thighs. “You m-mean about the vegetarian thing?”
His eyes flash. “Is there anything else you’re lyin’ to me about?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“You sure?”
I close my eyes to shut out his probing gaze and pull his hair harder. “I was just… I was just trying to protect myself.”
I don’t know if what I said made sense or not, but he hums, his chest buzzing. “Yeah, and trust me, no one regrets it more than me.”
“Regrets what?”
“That you had to lie to protect yourself and now you’re a Turner.”
“Okay,” I say uselessly, without thinking about it.
“Meaning you’re off-limits,” he growls, his tone suddenly laced with anger.
“Meaning all I could do last night when I came back from that deadass strip club, all angry and jacked up, was jerk off to your sleepin’ body like I was still back in prison, reading and rereading your letters, trying, goddamn fucking tryin’, to hear your voice in my head. ”
If anything could pierce through the fog my mind seems to be under and make me realize what’s happening, it would be this. This crazy, crazy thing he’s said. Even so, I can’t seem to let go of him, and I’m tightening my limbs around his body. I breathe out, “You what?”
He clenches his jaw, his eyes glittering with a furious light. “All I could do was kneel between your soft silky thighs and fuck my fist like I’ve been doing for the past six months.”
“Six…”
“The only difference was last night I had somewhere to dump all my cum, instead of letting it run through my fingers.”
“Where?”
“On you.”
“Me?”
“Your juicy thighs.”
My juicy thighs flex around him. “You came on my…”
“And your white little panties.”
I feel them now, all drenched and sticky, and it reminds me of something. I pull at his hair and ask, “Is that why… my p-panties were all sticky this morning?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh.”
There was a hint of regret in my tone. Because I think… I think I would’ve liked to be awake for that. To watch him come.
“Was it a lot?” I ask before I can stop myself.
“Drenched your panties and painted your thighs,” he whispers. “What do you think?”
“You—”
“And if instead of on you, I’d come in you, you’d be drippin’ for days.”
I fist his hair, twisting my hips under him. “I think we s-should stop.”
“You’d be swollen and full and hurting for days. And I’d be walkin’ around hard as fuck knowin’ you felt me sliding down those juicy thighs of yours that I wanna bite every time I get a flash of them through your dress. So yeah, it was a fuck of a lot.”
I arch and moan and whisper, “I really think—”
“So as much as I liked paintin’ you with my cum and makin’ your body my canvas, I’m not a delicate fuckin’ artist. I’m a hardened cowboy with a record and I wanna dump my load in a juicy warm cunt.
” I flinch and whimper, but he keeps going.
“Apparently, though, that’s not possible.
Because you’re a Turner. So instead of givin’ you what you’re askin’ for, I’m gonna suck your little college girl snatch through those drenched panties of yours and we’ll see if that doesn’t keep you in your place and finally get you to behave.
A word of warning though”—he pauses to let that take effect—“I know I said I’d take my time with you.
Go slow and savor. But that was just somethin’ I said to not scare you.
In all honesty though, I like it hard and fast and that goes for everything including eating pussy. ”
Before I can even attempt to respond, he gets up.
He pushes his large body off me and comes up to his knees.
My fingers mourn his loss and in his absence grab the dead leaves on the ground.
I wonder if this is what he looked like last night, kneeling between my thighs.
All big and hard, his chest vibrating, his stomach hollowing out.
Without taking his eyes off me, he goes for his T-shirt.
He fists it with the hand on his uninjured side and again, before I can attempt to put things together, takes it off.
My eyes go wide and I’m all ready to take him in. But he doesn’t let me. All I am able to do is catch a glimpse of all the blood on his shoulder before in a flash, he’s over me again. But this time, his one hand is by my head and his other at my throat.
Holding that knife to my pulse.
My heart dives. I was so busy staring at him like a lunatic that I never realized he had retrieved the knife and now is holding it to my throat.
His eyes shine as he says, “I know you wanna deny it. I know you wanna say you don’t want this.
But how about we cut the bullshit?” He presses the tip of the knife on my pulse for a second and my breaths are suspended.
Then, in a surprising move, he flips it and offers the knife to me, handle first. “How about I give you a chance to kill me. You wanna stop me, you stab me with that knife. And I’ll be down there, eatin’ your pussy and makin’ you come until you pass the fuck out and can’t lie to me anymore. ”
As if in a daze, I take the knife from him and blurt out, “But—”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“No, it’s, uh”—I gulp when his eyes narrow—“you’re bleeding.”
“Yeah?”
“So, uh, d-don’t you think we should do something about that?”
He watches me a beat. Then, “If you think a little blood’s gonna keep me off your pussy, then you need to learn a lot of things and learn them fast.” I open my mouth again to say something, but he commands, “Now, shut the fuck up, hold on to that knife, and keep those legs open.”
I purse my lips and wrap both hands around the handle of his knife, hugging it to my chest, and open my legs wider.
Like I’m some kind of a good girl and this is not the most bizarre and the most erotic thing that’s ever happened to me.
Then I watch him move down my body and flip up the skirt of my dress.
Before I can draw another breath, he bends down and puts his mouth on me.
The first lick of his tongue, even through my panties, makes me jump and almost stab myself. The second lick is when I try to close my legs, but he holds me down and laps at me.
Which is when I come.
It’s embarrassing, but I can’t help it. I can’t help but rock and undulate on the ground as my channel pulses and pulses in his mouth, flooding my panties even more.
At which point, he takes the wet fabric in his mouth and sucks on that alone as if trying to soak in the juices.
Before taking the fabric between his teeth and giving it a pull.
And holy God, I come again.
Probably because of the scrape of his teeth against my panty-covered pussy, or the bite of the waistband. Or maybe his growl—because he growled something fierce when he did that—or just my body surrendering to him, to his mouth, to my own desires, because it’s not as if he was lying.
I did—do—want this.
Despite my better judgment and everything he’s done, my six months of feelings haven’t been erased. It’s not my desire alone, though. It’s his, too, that’s turning me on so much.
Because look at the way he’s eating me.
He’s using his tongue. He’s using his teeth.
He’s using his voice, too, slurping and gulping and growling.
Plus, his fingers are digging into my thighs, keeping me open and available to him.
He’s using his entire self to suck on me, and even though there’s a barrier between his mouth and me, I can still feel his hunger reaching.
I can still feel all his pent-up desire from the last six months.
So what choice do I have but to give him what he wants.
To come and come and just flow into his mouth.
What choice do I have but to writhe my hips, dig my head into the ground, scrape my skin against the dirt.
I clench my thighs around his head, feeling his stubble on my innermost tender skin, feeling his blood making everything more slippery and stickier.
And I come again.
And again and again and fucking again until I almost pass out. Just as I’m slipping into dark slumber I realize the knife is still in my hands, clutched tightly and held securely between my breasts. And it never occurred to me to use it.