Something Like Sunflowers

Chapter 37

Devyn

I know what we went through tonight was a lot, to say the least, but I’m happy about that.

I’m heartbroken for Samuel.

His life wasn’t easy when we were kids. He was so much younger than Hunter, too, just a year behind me, when their father started those awful benders, night after night away at an unknown bar in some other town. Envelopes would overflow from the letter box and fall to their doorstep.

I could never imagine what that felt like, being alone for weeks. Staying with friends. Never knowing. Never having any control or say in the matter.

Nobody would know where to find him. Not Hunter. Not Samuel. Not Aunt Sarah, who would swoop in to help every few years, but get pushed back out by their father when he’d return with a need to prove he’d change this time. Said his kids didn’t need her handouts.

But it doesn’t excuse what Samuel did. Or…what he didn’t do.

He didn’t save her.

And Hunter bears those scars for him. I could see as much in his eyes. He blames himself for his brother’s actions, just like he blames himself for the actions of a drunk driver who wrecked our relationship and our dreams all those years ago.

I won’t let him do that anymore.

Being back in Pine Forest has been hard for me, too. I had the memories and trauma shoved into a box in the farthest corner of my mind, packed beneath layers of bricks. Entire shelters. All self-constructed to keep me from remembering. From thinking. From…feeling.

And without even knowing it, I’ve been doing precisely the thing I’ve always resented, but I’ve done it to myself. I made my life sparkle so I’d never feel the pain. But I still felt it. I felt it every day then, and I feel it every day now. I trace my scars over my clothing. I don’t need to be naked to feel them. Much like being with Hunter, we are more than skin deep.

And I don’t need anything more than faith right now to know that.

The jagged parts of life, the parts that don’t sparkle, were things I needed to feel. Not to move on, but to carry on. To see the big picture.

A brother who let me tag along led me to a best friend who showed me love and something bigger than myself.

A tragedy that knocked our lives off balance led to years of twists and turns we never could have imagined.

And a job interview, a turn of fate, led us back together.

To a little girl who needs us now. And isn’t that what we talked about all those years ago, lying under starry skies behind an old shed?

We promised each other the world as we held a life between us.

And what I’ve learned is that mine can’t exist without Hunter Isaac in it. Whatever that may mean.

My ties to happiness aren’t woven from career success or fancy offices. And they most certainly aren’t related to winning a competition, or pleasing anyone who thinks they know what’s best for me.

Mom, Dad, Dustin…those people’s opinions matter, but the only singular opinion that can change my fate for me is my own.

“Always daydreaming.”

I jump at Hunter’s voice and turn to face him as he swaggers in, my back pressed against the barn wall.

“The kids are asleep.” He pulls the doors shut and slides a lock in place from the inside.

My eyes instantly whip up to his, a thrill running through me at the thought of being locked up, with him…or, from the looks of those ropes… by him.

“Just in case they wake up and come out here,” he says with his signature wink, “they’ll have to knock, and we’ll have time to—”

“To fuck me?”

His eyes flick to mine, a hunger there that I feel all over my body. He stalks forward, but he doesn’t speak, teasing me with his eyes as he trails his fingers down the rows and rows of coiled ropes that line the wall.

I clench my thighs, my heartbeat taking up new residence in my clit and pulsing relentlessly against the lace of my panties just beneath my shorts.

Hunter seems to consider his roping options for an eternity, driving me absolutely mad , the muscles of his back flexing in show as he makes his selection. My arousal drips down my inner thighs, and a whimper escapes my lips when he wraps a thick cord of red rope around his clenched fist.

First and foremost, why is that so erotic? My pussy throbs, and I can’t stand it. I need him on me, in me.

“If you don’t tie me up or rub that shit on my clit pretty soon, I’ll take my merry ass to the wall of doom and do it myself.”

“Ohhh, look at what we got here.” He chuckles, his lips curving up to meet the devious gaze in his eyes. “The Princess of Pine Forest, throwing out ultimatums before manners. Seems like I need to teach you.”

“Teach me what?” I ask, licking my lips.

He retrieves two other ropes and a…riding crop .

“To say please.” He stalks forward, straw rustling beneath his boots as he comes closer, invading my space and kicking my legs apart with his knee.

It surprises me, and a giggle slips from my lips as I’m knocked off balance, but he catches me, meeting my eyes with a promise in his own that says we’re going to do this.

A second chance at life together.

I lurch forward, crashing my lips to his. I want him inside of me now, and I hardly realize it’s me when a moan breaks free from somewhere inside me, as I rock my body into him.

“So dirty,” he mumbles, laying the flat of his hot, wet tongue over the front of my neck and gliding it across my chest as he backs me to the bench, lowering me inch by painstaking inch until I’m lying down, writhing as he leans over me, caressing me with his mouth in a way that heats me from the inside out.

“Thought you were gonna be a good little girl for me, but you just can’t help how fuckable you are, can you, Devy?”

Oh, my God. The dirty words on his lips coupled with my childhood nickname send me over the edge. He hasn’t even touched between my legs yet, but it’s all I feel, pulsing, throbbing. My thighs slam together, trapping his knee between them, and I grind my body against it until I’m coming and cursing. He smirks, licking the shell of my ear with his whisper.

“Do you feel better now?”

I nod, twisting my lips as an embarrassed smile pulls across my face. But he wastes no time. He slides his fingers into my hair and hoists me up, bracing me from behind and bringing me to my feet, angling my head so I have no choice but to look into his eyes. Eyes that could open to the blue sky above us and I wouldn’t even know the difference.

“Good. Because what we’re about to do requires you to stand perfectly still, and I can’t have you coming all over my pants the way you like to while I’m tying you up.”

“Tying me up?” My voice is thick and husky, and I lick my lips, unaware of where this ho inside of me comes from, but embracing her all the same as I throw a coy smile his way. “I thought we were going to play out your fantasies, not mine.”

His eyes darken, as he curses beneath his breath.

“ Fuck . Take off your clothes.” His eyes rake down my body as he scrapes his tongue across his lips.

Slowly. Tantalizing. And I’m pretty sure when he does it, there’s a button that presses against the swollen bud between my legs .

It drives me wild.

Goosebumps prickle my body while I do as I’m told, removing my blouse, then my shorts. Next go my black bra and hot pink lace panties that earn an appreciative groan from Hunter, who’s standing there in his full clothes watching me with a hunger I don’t think I’ve ever seen in a man’s eyes.

My heart thumps wildly as I bend down to remove my pink cowgirl boots, the ones I had Dad ship me from the city after my heels met their maker in the muddy fields. I pull one halfway off, but Hunter stops me, his voice a thick command that settles in my core.

“Leave the boots.” A curve tilts his lips. “I want you spread open, covered in mud, and ready to work, like the Good Lord intended.”

Oh, my God, the filth that pours from his mouth is sinful. And I can’t help how turned on it makes me feel all the same. I want that, too. I want to be tied up in front of him, put on display for him, to do whatever he wants. To take the pressure of all that away from me.

To own my body so I won’t have to, if only for this moment in time.

“Don’t speak unless prompted, do you understand?” I nod, but bite back my laugh. And yeah, don’t get me wrong, normal Devyn would show this cowboy a thing or two about where I can shove these pretty little shit kickers when I’m told what to do, but normal Devyn has clocked out and gone home for the night. This is the Ex to Hoe Ratio thing…Jeremy is on to something. Because why else would I agree to something so controlling, taboo, and…

Who am I kidding?

It’s sexy and kinky and I want it.

Hunter takes my wrists and places a soft kiss on the inside of each, maintaining eye contact all the while. He carefully arranges my body, positioning me face up on the bench, my thighs hanging open, straddling either side so my boots are flush with the dirt.

“You did something bad, Dev. Do you want to know what?” A shiver of delight passes over me, an excitement I can neither quench nor explain as he unbuttons the cuffs on his sleeves, rolling them up to reveal his muscled forearms. He lowers his head to just above my center, and I want his mouth on it like I want air.

“You called me Daddy,” he says, his eyes hard and menacing. He plays the part so damn well. If I didn’t know any better, his shift in energy would scare me, but I do know him better, and all it does is make me wet. He groans as he drags his fingers over my leg, where it drips down my thigh, coating his fingers in my desire.

“In those books you read—” He rubs his hands on my thighs, going higher with each hitch of my breath, until he’s mere inches from where I want him to be, his gaze scraping over me possessively. “It means he’s the Dom, doesn’t it?”

I bite my bottom lip, averting my eyes, but he uses his other hand to grab my chin between his thumb and forefinger and whips my focus back on him.

“It does,” he says, “and I decided I like it.”

He stands tall and circles the bench, tweaking my nipples and tugging my hair on his circumnavigation of my body. I could tell you it feels degrading, but it’s hot as hell, and all it does is make me insatiable, my desire soaking my Spanx right through.

“I like the idea of you falling apart under my command. Submitting to me.”

I moan when he twists my nipple, just lightly enough not to hurt, but rough enough to make me need him, crave him. I rock myself against the bench, and he coos.

“The only words I want to hear from those pretty lips of yours are Daddy and Sir ,” he says firmly, tugging me closer by the same nipple he has yet to release. He holds it, possessively. Like it’s his.

And I’m so turned on in this moment that I’d agree in an instant if he’ll promise to put it in his mouth and run his tongue around it like he did inside my mouth earlier.

“Yes, Daddy,” I tease, rolling my eyes and earning a slap to my bare pussy, and I can’t help the moan that pops from my lips in response. It feels so good , the pleasure that comes just after the pain.

He moves behind my head and positions my arms by my side and brushes light trails over my breasts, placing a kiss behind my ear. I shiver in anticipation. Wanting and needing so much more than he’s giving.

“Be patient.” He swats my wiggling hips. “This exercise isn’t about lust. It’s about trust.” He rubs the rough, singed edge of the rope along my nipple, drawing the tiniest bit of pain with pleasure.

I whimper, bucking my hips up involuntarily, and he laughs. He begins binding my arms to my sides with the rope, coiling it around me as he holds my body in place against the bench.

“These are a nylon-hemp blend. We use them for cattle and horses because they are strong, yet soft. Good for lassos,” he says when he gets to the tops of my shoulders. “You know what lassos are for, right, Ponygirl?”

My brows pinch together. “For stray cattle?”

“For the ones who run away,” he rasps. And I can’t tell you why that turns me the fuck on, but I buck my hips up so high that even he can’t help but chuckle as he holds me down.

“Just like wranglin’ a bull, aren’t you, babygirl? You gonna break and let me ride you?”

At this point, he’s bound my arms from the boobs up, and now he’s working his way back down, making sure to coil the remaining red rope around each breast. It’s not so tight that it hurts, but it is tight enough that they’re pulsing. That same heartbeat that was visiting my clit earlier has shot its way to the tips of my reddened nipples, blood rushing to them with the force of the ropes and begging for someone to suck them, lick them. God, I would do anything if he would bend me over and fuck me senseless right this instant.

Maybe this is the patience he was talking about, I think as I struggle against the ropes. He stops coiling, lifting an eyebrow in question.

“If you want me to stop, just say…” he thinks briefly, “ … sunflowers, and I’ll stop, okay?”

“Okay—” I start, but he swats his riding crop down on my swollen breasts, and I cry out in ecstasy. Not sunflowers, but…

“Yes! More!”

The pain is intense, shooting through my nipples and over my blood-rushed body, but the pleasure comes after in soft waves, washing over me and somehow stimulating my pussy simultaneously.

I lick my lips, panting. “I mean yes, sir.”

“Good girl,” he purrs, running his hand down my body and cupping my pussy. He palms my clit, rubbing circles around while I buck into it, searching for the pressure that will send me spiraling again, but he stops, drawing his hand back up.

“Patience, Dev.”

I whine, but I’m not done playing his game. If I wanted to stop, I’d say sunflowers , but that isn’t what I want, is it? I want him to tease me. I want him to touch me. I want him to have total control over my body because it feels good. Because giving it over to him means I don’t have to live in the reality of overseeing all that is… me . If only in the here and now.

It feels like hours while he slowly wraps me in length after length of the nylon cords. Somehow, he knows perfectly how to do the twists and ties that seem extraordinarily detailed and specific, and a sliver of jealousy slices into my gut.

“Hunt—I mean, Daddy?” I ask, biting my lip, and he groans in response. I can see the way his cock hardens beneath his jeans, revs up when I speak those kinky words. He likes it just like I do. “How do you know how to do all of this…” I can’t exactly gesture down my body since I’m literally bound by the arms, but he gets my insinuation anyhow, cutting off my question.

“Shabari. It’s a form of rope tying. It’s not always sexual. It’s…a type of meditation. An art, even. It’s about transcending.”

“Transcending?” I tease. “Since when did you become so spiritual?”

“Around the same time you started snapping that hair tie, probably.”

My heart goes still for a quick beat, giving space for pieces of his to fit back in, and we both fall silent as he makes work of securing me with pretty twists and intricate loops.

He continues wrapping my body. This time, a beautiful X shape is fashioned across my midsection, leaving my belly button and pelvis exposed. He uses two green ropes to tie along the bottom of the Xs and around my hips, hoisting me so my pelvis is suspended in the air a few inches above the bench while he tugs a thin pink rope through my… butt crack .

I gasp, giggling because it tickles like crazy, but he swats my ass and lowers me back down, my thighs coming to either side of the bench, and he lays me down and kneels in front of me, right between my spread legs.

My pussy is on full display. And the cold night air against my skin on all the patches the rope doesn’t cover has my body shivering, my nipples poised, and I can feel my need for him wetting my skin the longer I wait, drenching the wooden bench beneath me when he breathes in my scent and growls appreciatively.

“I’m going to line this pretty pink pussy with matching pink rope. It’s going to push your lips together real tight while I play with you, until you’re begging me to split them back open with my cock.” He licks his lips, staring at me dripping before him like a fucking buffet. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, pretty girl?”

“Yes, Daddy!” I cry, desperation and need taking over me. But I still have to wait.

Painfully, minute after minute ticks by on the damn cowboy hat clock on the wall that I plan to smash with the heel of my boot when this is over because it’s making my anticipation ten times worse. And the whole time, Hunter stays perfectly silent.

Aside from his groans and grunts of approval every time his fingers brush the wetness beading from my labia, practically weeping to be fucked. He’s fully bound me from neck to hips, my legs held open by two ropes he’s fastened to the bench and my ankles, and just to be clear, if I don’t get fucked soon, I will die. I will literally die. So, I tell him this.

“Hunter, I am going to die if you don’t—”

He chuckles, his heavy body easing on top of mine, as he lays long, languid kisses over every inch of my exposed skin, summoning pleasure from every nerve ending I possess, pinching and tugging at various spots in the roping as he goes, snapping it against me and making tiny, painful scratches over my body. It only seems to make the pulsing in my breasts and my pussy more intense, like a balloon, tight and eager, stretched to its fullness and in danger of popping with just one quick prick.

That’s all it would take for me, just one prick. I try not to snicker at the double meaning and fail, earning me a swat to the pussy that only spurs me on.

He’s so hot laying into this kink. I tilt my hips up as high as I can while still bound to the bench by my ankles, and Hunter stands again, backing away, inspecting me.

“You can’t stand not being in control, can you, princess?”

“No,” I grind out, straining against the bindings, even though I kind of like them. I’m enjoying being this secure, and it’s exhilarating being at his mercy. “That’s kind of the point of the hair tie. It gives me control of the pain.”

“And this will give you control of the pleasure.” He grabs his riding crop from its spot on the bench. “You will count each strike. And when you’ve had as much pain as you can take, I’ll fill you with pleasure.”

“You’ll fill me with something, I hope.”

He huffs, shooting me an incredulous glare.

“Jesus, Dev, we’re doing a sexy thing…could ya just—”

“Sorry. Continue.” I blink my doe eyes up at him and wink. “ Daddy.”

He shakes his head at me, smiling as he swats my pussy again, but this time it’s with the riding crop, not his hand. And it stings.

But…do I like this?

I close my eyes, moaning softly as his fingers rub soft, feather-like circles over my plumped-up pussy lips between the hot pink roping. It feels heavenly, the soft caress over the stinging pinpricks of before.

“That’s it, babygirl, lean into it,” Hunter purrs in that rich, Internet thirst-trappy voice of his. It’s not exactly a fake version of his own, but it’s more exaggerated, sexier for show.

Fuckable , as he puts it.

“Are you ready to count?” He strokes the crop, scanning my body. I nod, squeezing my eyes shut and waiting for him to begin.

But he doesn’t, so I open my eyes to Hunter’s stern look of disapproval, and I have to suppress a giggle from slipping past my lips again when I realize why.

“Yes, Daddy,” I say.

And now he begins, leaving only a heartbeat before snapping the riding crop over the bottom of my left breast.

“One!” I cry, sucking in breath through my teeth to hide how much it hurts. It surprised me, but then the soothing tickle of the leather as he trails the crop softly over the assaulted skin is enough to send ripples of pleasure to my pussy. I stretch my legs to test the give on the ropes that have my thighs held wide, but they don’t budge. They were tied up by a cowboy, after all, and that thought sends an electric shockwave down my core. I’m at his mercy.

Pain strikes down on me again before I can grip reality, and this time it’s to the skin just below my belly button. I buck my hips, a whimper falling from my vocal cords, unashamedly asking for more, faster, lower.

“Two, three, four, five,” I call as each strike finds its own place on the bits of skin beneath the bindings. I wonder if, when this is over, I’ll have marks in all directions, a mix of webs and welts, of pleasure and patience and pain coming to one.

Like life.

“Six, seven,” I scream, each strike getting progressively harder, the eighth and ninth peppering my hardened nipples and causing me to writhe beneath my bindings, the nylon straining against my skin and rubbing my clit just the right way if he’ll keep his body pressed against me for just a moment longer. I moan, bucking with what little give I can, but he moves his thigh where it’s been resting against the bench, relieving me of the pressure I was receiving and making me scream, my body wishing it could be free to climb him like an animal.

“Fuck me, please!” I shout, followed by a smack.

“Ten!” I cry out as his riding crop flares across my clitoris, my pussy exploding with electricity as he drops the crop and, thank the lord, gets to his knees, slides a knife from his boot, and slices the ropes from my body like a package, which, to be honest is hot as hell, my man, inspecting my body, kissing my scars, licking my swollen breasts like he hasn’t had an ice cream in all his life and my chest is a full on hot fudge sundae.

The absolute skank inside me slips free, and I hardly recognize myself, leaning fully into this kinky game of predator and prey.

“ Please , Daddy,” I moan, rubbing my nipples and biting my bottom lip. “I was so good. Won’t you split me open with your cock?” I twist my lips up, playfully, and he growls in response, grinning dangerously at me and yanking me free from my hot pink bindings before shoving inside me all the way to the hilt. I gasp, the fullness inside me leaving little room for air, and he groans from deep within.

“Such a little slut. So fucking wet for me.” He sucks the skin on my neck and leaves absolutely no room for me to confuse him with a gentleman when he hooks my knees over his shoulders and finds a whole new angle to fuck me from that has me literally gushing, squirting …

No, this is…I’m squirting. Oh, my God!

“Hunter!” I gasp, embarrassed, but also…it feels so good. My body clenches, every bit of pleasure exploding through my center as he hits the spot that keeps me coming over and over and over again. I don’t want him to stop. “I’m getting it all over you. I didn’t know I could do this…” I trail off, looking down with wide eyes at the mess seeping between us, but he groans again, squeezing my hips harder. He doesn’t stop. Just throws an incredulous laugh into my neck while he continues to thrust into my G-spot like it’s his last chance to fuck me ever again.

“I love you, Devyn Lynn,” he growls as he finishes inside me, tensing and hanging on to me while he rolls his hips slowly for several beats, all the while laying soft kisses across my chest. With that, how could I deny it?

“I know,” I tell him as his exhausted body collapses atop my own. I wrap my arms around him and tug him close as our hearts find a way in their own erratic rhythms to beat in time.

“I love you, too, Hunter Isaac. Now and always.”