Total pages in book: 185
Estimated words: 191421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 957(@200wpm)___ 766(@250wpm)___ 638(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 191421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 957(@200wpm)___ 766(@250wpm)___ 638(@300wpm)
To keep it all business.
Gosh, I’m an idiot, aren’t I?
I’ve been an idiot for six years now.
For not recognizing the truth.
For not seeing who he is to me.
“Because I didn’t know that I was yours.”
His face hardens. “And why are you telling me now?”
I comb my fingers through his spiky hair. I trace them over his peaked and bruised features, his summer skin marked by fading bruises. I bury them in his stubble and whisper, “Because I know now. I know that I’m yours. I’m your good little servant girl. Because I should’ve been yours since the beginning. Because you don’t have to watch, not anymore. You can play. Only you get to play with me now. You get to make all your dreams come true. All six years’ worth of lovely dreams and wonderful fantasies.”
Still, the silence dominates for a few moments.
Still, he watches me immobile and frozen.
Until he doesn’t.
Until he comes for my mouth and claims it in a kiss again. And then we’re devouring each other like we were only a few minutes ago. We’re writhing and pulling at each other’s hair and each other’s clothes. And then he puts me down, and spins me around. He pushes me toward the tree and I go, only because I’m all limp and loose.
Only because I’m his.
So I let him arrange me.
I let him put my arms around the tree, and set my cheek on it. I let him yank on my hips and widen my legs.
Finally, he flips up my dress and bares my ass to his reddish-brown eyes. What he sees makes him squeeze my cheeks and smack them.
Just like that.
Without any warning. Without any preamble.
If I wasn’t so out of it, I would’ve screamed at the shock. At the abrupt crack.
As it is, all I do is whimper and watch him, blinking, hugging my tree for support.
“Fuck me,” he mutters as if to himself, twisting my panties. “Pink with little hearts. I’m going to burn for this, aren’t I?”
“N-no.”
“I am. Because every time a guy like me,” he looks up, smacking my ass again, “fucks a girl like you, an angel cries in heaven.”
I would’ve said something to that if I could.
But the shock of his palm renders me speechless. Oh, and I feel him sliding my panties down my bare thighs. He makes me step out of them and picks them up.
Smelling them.
Like he did my braid.
Licking the crotch too before he pockets them and unzips his pants.
My eyes go down to where his fingers are working, waiting for the first sight of his cock. But he leans down over me, drapes his chest on my spine and kisses my cheek softly, hiding his dick from my sight again.
Probably to protect me.
“Because every time,” he yanks me back, “a Bandit raw dogs his Bubblegum’s pussy, the fucking God cries in heaven. So good for you, baby. Good for you that you kept it from me. That you denied me the pleasure of fucking you raw.”
I want to tell him no again.
That I wasn’t good. I was bad to keep it from him.
I also want to ask him what is raw dog.
But I can’t.
All I can do is gasp and moan. Because he chooses that very moment to enter me.
All bare and raw.
So I guess that’s what it means, raw dog.
Doing it without a condom.
And oh my God, is there any other way to do it?
Is there any other way to get fucked but stuck to a tree like I am, with your back arched and your dress all twisted up, and your guy — this hot and big and sexy guy who’s been obsessed with you for six years — giving it to you from behind?
No, I don’t think there is.
I also don’t think he was telling the truth just now.
When he said that I denied him the pleasure of fucking me raw.
Because I not only denied him, I also denied myself the pleasure and I’m so glad that I don’t have to anymore. I’m also glad that he has me trapped between him and the tree, one hand holding my hip for purchase and other squeezing my breast. I’m glad that he’s breathing right next to my mouth, grunting and moaning right alongside with me so I can revel in his ecstasy.
So I can revel in his euphoria at pumping into me bare.
And God, he definitely looks euphoric.
His eyes are closed, his mouth’s parted, his chest is shuddering at my back, and I can’t help but want to touch him. I can’t help but want to feel his happiness with my fingers.
So I do.
I somehow manage to stop scratching the bark and go to his face.
I manage to grip it with my fingers.
At which point, he wakes up.
He opens his dark, dark, so very dark and dilated eyes, and looks at me. And the moment he does, I come.