45. Indie
Chapter 45
Indie
L ife is strange. One minute, you’re just trying to get the scoop on the Crimson Three.
The next. . . well, you’re fucking them.
That’s the brief thought that flashes through my mind as Tripp presses me tightly to him, his lips eagerly moving over mine. His arm wraps around my waist, holding me close so I can’t get away. I wrap my arms around him, holding him just as tightly, one of my hands coming up to run my nails through his hair. There’s a beep from the machine behind us, but I can’t bring myself to care about what it means. Tripp, though, he knows exactly what it is.
He grins against my lips and his other arm reaches around me, curling into the leather strap. “Hold on, cowgirl,” he says against my lips.
And suddenly, I know what the sound is, too.
I squeak and hold onto him tighter as the mechanical bull begins to move. It tilts forward, then back, and then starts to spin.
“It’s on auto pilot,” Tripp explains, laughter in his eyes the likes I’ve never seen. “Don’t worry. It’ll only last about eight seconds.”
Sure enough, eight long seconds pass us by as Tripp keeps us on the bull. He doesn’t stop kissing me despite the rough movements and the sudden direction changes. His muscles bunch around me, keeping me in place as the mechanical bull runs its course. Another beep sounds and he loosens his hold as the bull slows and stops.
“We’ve got a minute before it kicks on again,” he says, his hands immediately reaching for the edge of my shirt and dragging it over my head.
“Shouldn’t we get off?” I ask, my voice breathy.
He flashes a grin at me. “Now where would the fun in that be, scribbler?”
His fingers dance along my back, unhooking my bra before I realize what he’s doing. It loosens and I let it slide down my arms before shrugging it off completely and tossing it to the mat. He stares down at my body, at the scars that pepper my skin, but his eyes go to the large one on my arm. His fingers trace the puckered scar.
“This is a gunshot?” he asks, his eyes flicking up to mine.
I nod. “It is. Got that one in Iraq. I was lucky it was mostly a flesh wound and didn’t hit the bone.”
His fingers continue across my collarbone to a small sharp scar there. “This one?”
“Debris cut me from an IUD blast. I was okay, but my ears rang for a few days after,” I admit, reaching for his white t-shirt and tugging it up and over his head. He lets me, happy to oblige my desperate exploration as my fingers trail over his body. Just like me, he’s covered in scars. My fingers touch a small white line across his right pec. “What’s this?”
He glances down. “Beau cut me with a knife when we were kids. We didn’t know it was sharp enough to perform surgery. Pretty sure he panicked more than I did when I bled.”
I laugh. “That checks out. That man is as unhinged as they come, but if anyone he cares about is hurt. . .”
I let the words hang, mostly because we both know that he’d willingly go to war for anyone he holds close. Like the stray dog he calls himself, now that he’s found a home, he’ll die to protect it.
“What about—” A loud beep sounds in the room, and I sigh. “Here we go.”
Tripp grins and tugs me close again, wrapping his arms around me tightly. “Here we go,” he repeats, and the mechanical bull starts moving.
This time, I laugh as we move, letting the movements grind me against his arousal in his jeans. I know it must be painful to strain so hard against his zipper, so the moment the eight seconds are up, and we stop moving, my fingers go to his belt and the fastening of his jeans. His breath stutters out in a husky rasp as I free his cock and wrap my hand around it. I stroke it from base to tip, relishing the feel of him in my hand.
“I’ve dreamed about you doin’ this,” he groans, before his lips trace my neck, the bruises there, driving me insane. “About you taking me into your throat and?—”
I shove him back, forcing him to lean back against the end of the bull. His abs bunch at the positioning even as he stares at me in confusion. I slide my hips back to the front edge.
“What are you do. . . oh,” he groans as I lean forward and take him into my mouth. “Oh, fuck. Yeah, don’t stop that,” he encourages, his hand wrapping tightly in my hair to press me down so I can take him deeper. “Fuck,” he grunts out in a long stream of pleasure as I start to bob.
The sounds of him enjoying my lips on him, the feeling of him in my throat, has me slick with desire. I’m still wearing my jeans, still far too dressed in the four pairs of socks wrapping my feet. I need to get naked. I need to feel him against me.
His hand forces me down and I gag, forgetting for a moment to relax my throat muscles. He moans at the feel of it, but doesn’t let me up, not until tears prick my eyes. Finally, he eases back, letting me take a deep breath as I slide back to the tip.
He hisses through his teeth as I swirl my tongue around the head. “What I wouldn’t give to see you do this to one of the others,” he groans.
I freeze, mostly because none of us have talked about it, but also. . . fuck if that isn’t the hottest thing someone has ever said to me. The beep sounds, and I start to sit up, but his hand on the back of my head suddenly keeps me down.
“I’ve got you,” he grunts. “Just don’t fuckin’ stop.”
So, I don’t. I slide down his cock and suck him deep, stroking him with my tongue. He leans forward, one of his arms grabbing the leather strap from between my legs, an anchor to keep us on the bull. His arm presses against my aching pussy, making me want to grind back against him just for a little bit of relief. His other hand grips a handful of my hair as he starts to grind his hips with the movements of the bull. My own hands wrap into the jeans at his thighs, holding on for dear life as I suck him while we ride a mechanical bull. What a sight we probably make right about now.
I don’t even count this time. The eight seconds go by so fast, I barely notice, not until the bull stops. The moment it does, he jerks me upright and slams his lips to mine in a kiss that feels half desperate and half insanity.
“I need you,” he growls against my lips. His hand cups me through my jeans. “I need this sopping wet pussy wrapped around me right now.”
“Yes,” I hiss, just as hungry for him as he is for me.
His hands drop to the fastenings of my jeans, jerking them open before doing the same to the zipper. It’s all aggression, all desperate hunger as he lifts my hips and starts peeling my jeans from my legs. He doesn’t bother going in layers, he grabs everything, underwear and all, and jerks them down, doing his best to get them off my legs while we both still straddle the bull. Meanwhile, his lips leave marks across my chest, his teeth nipping gently before he seals his lips around my nipple and sucks.
My back bows as he lavishes attention on one breast before moving to the other, his teeth leaving tiny little marks behind.
“You tryin’ to stake a claim?” I breathe, my hands tracing every inch of skin I can reach.
He leans up, his eyes flickering between mine and my neck. “I gotta leave some good ones behind to cancel out the bad,” he admits. He finally manages to strip me bare and I’m sitting naked on the mechanical bull. “I gotta make amends.”
He shoves me back on the mechanical bull, the worn leather pressing into my skin. My head hangs off the bull and I’m not nearly strong enough to keep myself up like Tripp had. That’s okay though. As my hair hangs from the bull and I strain not to fall off completely, the man leans down and presses his lips to my core.
I lose all control of myself.
“Oh!” I gasp, my legs automatically coming up, but he shoves them back open and down with his shoulders, his hands splaying me wide.
He licks up my arousal, humming at the taste of me, at just how wet I am for him. “You were made for this,” he growls against my core. “For us.” His fingers press inside me and curl. “This pussy might as well be branded with our mark.”
My hands clench in his hair, scrapping through the sides of his beard as he eats me so thoroughly, I can barely form a coherent thought. If I could, I’d tell him that no one brands me. But hell, right now, I’d let him do anything he wanted as long as he keeps up the thing he’s doing with his tongue.
His fingers combined with the way he rolls his tongue along my clit drives me off the edge. I cry out as an orgasm rocks me, as my body convulses while his face presses against my pussy. My legs shake. My stomach clenches, and I’m pretty sure I flood his face. I hear his surprised grunt before he snarls and presses his face in deeper, his lips sealing around my clit and sucking. I scream at the intensity of it, my body tightening in angry pleasure as he pulls a longer orgasm from my body like he’s a fucking puppet master.
The beep sounds again, and he jerks me up with his hand on the back of my neck, his other hand pressing me against him by the small of my back.
“Time to ride somethin’ a little different, scribbler,” he snarls as he positions me.
He’s not holding on this time when the bull starts moving, his hand too concerned with lining his cock up with my entrance. He presses the tip in, just the barest amount, as the bull starts to move. Only then does he reach around me and wrap his hand in the leather. His other one, he wraps around my waist and jerks me against him, forcing himself deeper into my body. My arms wrap around him as I cry out, as my legs wrap around his waist, and I start to grind against him. The bull starts to rock and then twist violently, more responsive than it’d been in the beginning. My only thought is that maybe the levels go up the longer we ride, but that thought disappears with the way I jerk against him, with the way his cock feels inside me as the bull rocks us together.
“Fuck me,” he breathes in my ear, his muscles tight as I grind against him during the ride. He keeps us seated on the bull, focusing on that as I take over and fuck him as best as I can. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect, Indie,” he growls, almost angrily. “Why are you so fuckin’ perfect?”
This time, eight seconds feels like forever as I work myself into a frenzy. When the beep sounds, he takes over, shoving me back to start fucking me hard and rough before the bull even stops moving. He’s savage as he pounds into me, his hands holding me down against the leather. He grabs my legs and shoves them backwards, making the angle even better as he fucks me so brutally, I scream with every thrust. He’d never even bothered taking his jeans off. They’re just bunched up around his hips as he fucks the city out of me.
I shatter, squirting around his cock as he pushes my legs as far back as they can go.
He bares his teeth down at me. “If I’d have known you were a squirter, I’d have fucked you a lot sooner,” he snarls, staring down at where I squirt with every thrust. “Fuck yeah. Keep doin’ that for me, scribbler.”
As if I can control it. As if he isn’t the one wringing every ounce of pleasure from my body.
“I need more,” he grunts. “I need everything.”
“Yes,” I hiss, long past caring about anything but the way he fucks me.
“You want me to show you how good I can really ride?” he asks as he continues his brutal fucking. “You want me to ride you like this is the rodeo, scribbler?”
I frantically nod my head, “yes,” though I’m not even sure what I’m agreeing to. I realize within three seconds that I probably should have asked.
Tripp jerks out of me and leaps off the bull, leaving me clutching at the leather to stop myself from falling as he slaps a button on the panel and comes back over.
“What are you doing?” I ask, breathless, my body still quivering from the last release.
“What I said I was gonna do,” he grunts, coming back over and grabbing me around the waist. He flips me over until I’m on the bull properly before he shoves me down onto it chest first.
“Hey,” I grunt when he does it roughly, but he doesn’t respond. He just grabs up a pile of straps and his heavy eyes focus on me. I tense. “Tripp?”
“You trust me, right?” he asks as he loops one of the rope ends around my wrist and threads it under to the other side as he walks. There, he wraps it around my other wrist and pulls it tight, almost too tight.
“I. . . uh. . . maybe,” I admit uncertainly as he threads the rope to my knee and circles it so that I’m trapped in that position.
“Good,” he grunts as he loops it back under the bull and circles my other knee, strapping me down. Once he has me all threaded among the ropes, he pulls, tightening all the ropes.
My fingers flex, testing the strength only to find I can’t move. Not at all. “What exactly are we doin’ here?” I breathe, a little bit panicked at being so immobile.
He runs his hand along my ass and smacks it, making me jump against the bonds. I hear rustling and when I glance back at him, I see him kicking off his boots and his jeans, finally leaving him as nude as I am.
“Well, darlin’,” he says with a flash of a grin. “You’re about to be my bull.” He hits the panel again and twists a knob before coming back over to the bull. “And this time, it won’t be on easy mode.”
My eyes widen as he leaps back up onto the bull behind where I’m strapped, and his hands run down my spine. He strokes through my folds, finding the wetness his words created.
“Well, would you look at that,” he purrs. “Seems someone likes the thought of bein’ ridden rough,” he teases. His cock lines up with my entrance. “Don’t worry, scribbler. I won’t break you too hard.” He slides in. “Unless you ask me to.”
He wraps one fist in my hair as my breath starts to rasp out of me in rough pants. It’s pretty fucking clear what’s about to happen, and though part of me doesn’t know how to feel about it, the other part is eager for it, hungry for it. And fuck, if this isn’t fucking hot. Before the bull even moves, as he sits fully inside me, I’m already leaking around him, making a mess that I know is probably dripping down the sides of the leather.
The beep sounds, and the bull starts to move.
“Always gotta keep one hand in the air,” he groans, and I feel his hand leave my hip. “One hand always on the bull.” His other hand tightens in my hair at the base of my skull. “Hip movements matter.”
I cry out as the bull jerks roughly backward and forward, forcing him to fuck me in chaotic spurts. He uses my hair as his handhold, and being tied down like this, I have absolutely zero control. We jerk around in a circle, back and forth, twist, again. The nip of pain in my hair only adds to the feeling as his hip movements grind him inside me. He rides me just like the bulls, stroking himself with each movement until my eyes practically roll back in my head.
My pussy squeezes him tightly and I squirt around him. “That’s it!” he says, continuing to ride me. “Give me more, baby!”
I cry out as the bull slams downward and he fucks me deep, his pelvis slapping against mine hard. He moans with me, his body tense with the strength it takes to stay on.
The panel beeps and the bull winds down, and he immediately takes over. His hand moves from the air to the small of my back as he leans forward and begins to pound inside me, stroking into me from behind with such violent thrusts, my chest still scraps against the leather, driving me insane as my nipples grow hard.
“You’re the best goddamn ride I’ve ever had,” he groans over me, his fingers digging into my flesh. “Better than any title.”
I gush around him, driving him wild as he draws more and more pleasure from my body. “Oh, god,” I cry, my voice thick with my hunger. “Tripp!”
“You want more, scribbler?” he growls, fucking me hard and fast. “You want me to take all of you?”
I nod frantically against the bull where my head rests. “Please. Please.”
His hand strokes my ass and then presses against it, pushing against the tight muscles there. “You want me to ride this for the next leg?”
“Yes,” I gasp, pulling against the ropes tying me down.
He chuckles. “As you wish, scribbler.”
He pulls from my pussy and presses the head against my ass, pressure immediately building there. I force my body to relax, force myself to take deep breaths despite how much of a livewire I feel. His deep groan as he presses in and pops past the tight ring of muscle nearly does me in, but not nearly as much as the feeling of him stroking gently inside me does. His hands trail along my body, caressing, tracing my scars, helping me relax.
“You feel so good,” he groans as he strokes himself inside me deeper and deeper. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”
My words are far less coherent and sound more like I’m speaking in tongues as I shake against my bonds, desperate to move, to force him faster, but trapped to take what he can give me.
The beep sounds and I tense in anticipation.
“Here we go, baby,” he coos. “Get ready for the ride of your life.”
His hand tightens in my hair again and he throws that hand into the air just as the bull starts to move. He jerks inside me, and I scream at the pleasure of it, as the bull tilts forward and back, forcing him to stroke inside me in violent bursts that have me seeing stars. He grunts with every thrust, clearly struggling as much as I am, riding me like the multi-million dollar cowboy he is. Eight seconds feels like forever this time as the bull slings us around and pitches forward and back like the best of them. I lose count somewhere around three as the feeling of him stretching my ass overtakes me. A long line of gibberish falls from my lips as I cry out my pleasure, as I writhe against my bonds.
By the time the beep comes again, I’m a mess of desperate almost release, my body tense with the hum of it.
“I think it’s time for you to flood me,” he groans as he takes over the rhythm and fucks me harder. “Let me see that pussy weep for me.”
He reaches down and presses his fingers inside my pussy, moving them faster than his hips stroke inside me, forcing my body to react again. My core tenses and I scream, an orgasm shattering through me with so much force, I can’t contain it. My body tightens as I squirt with every thrust of his fingers.
“Fuck yeah,” he grunts, his hips losing their constant rhythm. His breaths turn into pants as he jerks his cock out of me and rests it against the top of my ass. His warmth spurts across my skin, covering the small of my back, and when he’s done, he wipes his hand through it and rubs it in, groaning at the sight of him painting me with his release.
I can’t catch my breath. I’m rasping against the leather, weak, and still somehow hungry for more.
“Fuck,” Tripp rasps, hopping off the bull and hitting another button on the panel. “Let me get you untied. You can’t be comfortable.”
“This is fine,” I croak, just lying there draped around the bull, unconcerned with anything else but the spasms in my pussy and my ass. When I’d agreed to come out to the barn with Tripp, this isn’t what I’d thought would happen, but I’ll be damned if I’m not pleased with it.
He chuckles as he tugs at the straps and they loosen, letting blood finally return back to my limbs as he helps me off the bull and cradles me against him. He carries me over to a large wooden table and seats me on it.
“Let me grab something to clean you up,” he grunts, turning away from me.
I get a good look at the long-stripped scars across his back and the mottled design on the back of his shoulder. I lean back on the table to try and gather my senses, and my hand touches something metal when I don’t pay attention. I look down in confusion, still a little dazed from the way he’d just rocked my world, so it takes me a minute to figure out what it is I’m looking at. Frowning, I pick up the long metal stick, at least a couple of feet in length, and stare at the design on the end of it. The same logo on the gates for Fairview Acres.
My eyes widen in horror as they flick from the metal in my hand to the scar on Tripp’s back.
A scar in the exact shape and size as the brand on the end.
“No,” I rasp, and Tripp turns around, confused. His eyes drop to the metal in my hand and understanding flashes in his eyes. “He didn’t do that to you. Tell me he didn’t,” I beg, my eyes welling before he’s even answered.
Because we both know the answer.
“It’s okay, scribbler,” he murmurs, coming closer to wrap me in his arms. “It doesn’t matter now. It was a long time ago.”
The metal clatters to the floor from my hand. I wrap my arms around the man and cry for the boy who grew up in this hellhole.
The man who carries a legacy on his shoulders. . .
. . .and has it burned permanently into his skin.