His Taste Box Set: The Pine Grove Complete Collection

by Hamel, B. B.

  He just smirks and nods, leaning over me. His fingers press inside my pussy and I gasp, moaning softly, as his lips gently find mine.

  “That’s right,” he whispers in my ear, kissing my neck. “I can see it all over you, little Emma. The way you tense when I touch you, the way you act like you don’t know what you’re doing.”

  “I don’t know,” I admit to him softly.

  “That’s okay. You don’t have to know.” He grabs my hair again and pulls me close to him, fingers still deep in my pussy. “You have me.”

  He fucks my pussy with his fingers as he grips my hair hard. I groan and he kisses me, fast this time, intense. I can feel his hunger on my lips and I know I can match it, touch for touch.

  I roll my hips and he pushes me back, stepping away. I watch him unbuckle his belt, take it off. He takes off his jeans, his shirt, his underwear.

  I stare at his cock, biting my lip. He strokes himself, smirking like I just told a joke.

  “What?” he asks. “Never seen a cock like this before?”

  “I’ve never…” I stop myself. I was about to admit that I’ve never seen one at all, ever. “No, never,” I say finally.

  He laughs gently, tipping my chin toward him. “It’s okay, little Emma. I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

  He pulls me against him, kissing me hard again, and I moan into his kiss. I take his cock in both hands, stroking him, unable to help myself. He’s so big, massive, bigger than both of my hands easily, and completely rock hard. I knew cocks got hard but I had no clue…

  He groans softly as I stroke him and I can tell he likes it. I keep going as his fingers keep working my pussy, teasing me, rolling my clit. I keep myself close to him and moan into his kiss as I stroke his cock while he slides his fingers in and out of me.

  I don’t know how I can fit this inside of me. I don’t know how I can possibly let him fuck me with his enormous cock, but I know he’s going to. I know there’s nothing I can do to stop this, even if I wanted.

  He grabs my hair and tilts my head back, looking into my eyes. “Do you want me to fuck you, little Emma?” he asks.

  “Please,” I whisper.

  “Please?” I laugh gently. “That’s right, beg for it. I want to hear you beg.”

  “Fuck me,” I moan. His fingers pump in and out of my pussy, and it feels good, so good. “Fuck me, please. I need it. I’m ready for it. I want you.”

  He pushes me back and spreads my legs wide. I’m lying back on my elbows now, watching as he pushes his cock against my soaked pussy, and fear spikes through me.

  This is my first time, and I always thought it would be different. I used to think it would be on my wedding night, but no, that’s not my path, I can see that now. He slowly slides himself inside of me and suddenly all of my fear and uncertainty fades away.

  It hurts at first. I knew it would. There’s no way this enormous cock could take me without a little pain, and honestly, I welcome it. I want a little hurt. I want a little pain. It makes me feel even better as he leans over me and kisses my lips.

  His cock fills me up as he slowly slides himself in deep. “Oh, shit,” he whispers in my ear. “You’re so fucking tight, little Emma. I’m going to have to be gentle with you this first time. I don’t want to break you.”

  I grab onto his hair. “You can’t break me.”

  “I can,” he says, grinning savagely. “And if you’re not careful, I will.”

  I moan, dropping my hand as he starts to move his hips. He slides himself in and out, fucking me slowly at first. His lips kiss my neck, my breasts, teasing my nipples, and I don’t know how this would even be possible if I weren’t absolutely soaking wet right now.

  But I am soaking wet, and he easily slides in and out of me. He’s taking his time, teasing me, making me get used to him, and it’s working. The pain is there still, and I doubt it’ll go away this time, but there’s also pleasure. It feels good, the pain and the pleasure working together to drive me wild. His tongue on my nipples drives me crazy and I move my hips, a little unsure of myself.

  He seems to like it. He fucks me a little deeper and I roll my hips, pushing close against him.

  “That’s right,” he says gently. “Move your hips, take my big dick. You’re so goddamn tight but I’m going to make you love this.”

  I groan and grab him, pulling him close, pushing myself up with one hand while I wrap my other arm around his neck. He grabs me, pulling me tight against him, kissing my lips hard. His cock is buried deep inside of me, and pleasure and pain flare all through my skin, driving me wild, pulsing in wild rhythms.

  He lifts me up from the table suddenly, carrying me over to the couch, cock still buried inside me. I moan and laugh a little, a thrill running through me. This man can carry me around like I weigh nothing, he could easily break me, easily throw me around. And I like that.

  I like when he sits and leaves me straddling him. I arch my back and press down along his shaft. He plunges deep inside my pussy and I gasp, whispering his name.

  “Fuck, Rhett,” I say.

  He spanks my ass and spreads me, sinking deep inside my pussy. I moan through the pleasure and the pain, riding him slowly. He licks my nipple and bites softly, teasing me, before slapping my ass nice and hard.

  I like it and gasp, grinning at him. He smirks back and slaps my ass again, nice and hard. “You want me to leave a red mark?” he asks. “You want a handprint on your ass? You can look at it later and think about me fucking your tight little pussy.”

  “I want that,” I whisper, dripping wet, moaning wildly. “Oh, god, I want it all.”

  “Ride my fucking cock then. Ride it like you can’t get enough of it.”

  I roll back and start to buck my hips. I don’t know what I’m doing but it’s like dancing. I don’t care what I look like, so long as it feels good and I’m moving to the rhythm. We create that rhythm together, bodies intertwined, writhing, fucking, pleasure and pain and everything between.

  I moan in his ear as he grabs my ass and fucks me. It hurts and feels good and, god, I don’t even know what I’m thinking anymore. I don’t know how I ever thought around this man. He destroys me, breaks me, puts me back together again better than before.

  I bite his shoulder and he spanks me hard. Pleasure flares all through my skin and I start to ride him faster. I can’t help myself. I can feel that bulb of pleasure between my legs, starting to grow, starting to sprout. I want it badly, desperate for it.

  He grabs my ass and pumps into me. We’re fucking now, fucking harder. Pleasure and pain are all one thing and I can’t tell them apart anymore. I don’t want to tell them apart. His cock feels perfect between my legs, sunk deep inside. I roll my hips, riding him, and he sticks to my rhythm, my pace.

  I go faster, faster. I’m sweating, panting, gasping in his ear. “Go ahead, girl,” he groans to me. “Go ahead and ride that fucking cock. Look at you, you think you’re a virgin? Not anymore, you dirty girl. You’re riding my big cock and you’re not virgin anymore.”

  I gasp and moan. I love the thought of being dirty for him. I love being told how dirty I am. He spanks my ass and I ride faster as he cups my breasts.

  “Come on my big fat cock, you dirty girl. You filthy girl. You’re not a virgin anymore.”

  I moan his name, whispering it, shouting it. I ride him and sweat drips off my skin, and he licks my nipples, big hands on my back and my ass, and I know I can’t take it anymore. I know I can’t hold back another second.

  I come hard on his big cock, my whole body shuddering. I nearly black out and he keeps it going, pulling me close against him, fucking my tight pussy with his enormous cock. It hammers into me and I come and come, the orgasm rolling through me. The only thing in my world are my moans, his grunts, and his cock and the pleasure.

  I feel him come not long later, just as I start to finish. He fills me up, hot and sticky. I roll my hips, wanting more, and I love the way he groans and moans and says my name as h
e comes deep inside of my tight little pussy, my virgin pussy.

  Well, not a virgin anymore.

  We collapse together on the couch, sweating and panting. I have no clue how much time’s passed and I don’t care. All I care about is feeling his body pressed tight against mine.

  “That’s what I can give you, little Emma,” he whispers in my ear. “And that was just the start.”

  I kiss his lips gently.

  It’s a gilded cage, a beautiful cage. But it’s not a cage exactly, because cages are usually things people don’t get a choice about.

  I think I have a choice, and I’m choosing this cage. At least for now, at least while he can make me feel this way. I can’t imagine trying to run away, not when there’s so much more I have to learn.

  And I know he’s going to teach me.

  10

  Rhett

  After tasting her, feeling her, I know what I want. I know what I need.

  I’m keeping her around, no matter what.

  I leave her that day and night to think about what it felt like to have my cock buried between her legs. I know I’m thinking about it, all fucking night long, and in the morning I’m thinking about it as I cook her pancakes.

  “Good morning,” I say to her as I open the door to her little bedroom. She’s still in bed.

  “Morning,” she mumbles from under the covers, and slowly sits up. She’s wearing just a white t-shirt, her nipples hard under the thin cotton, and I’m tempted to get in there with her, to take her all over again.

  But no, I have plans for today.

  “Come on,” I say. “We need to eat. We have something to do today.”

  “We do?” she asks.

  “You’re going to meet somebody. And hopefully, we’re going to figure out who that guy was.”

  She bites her lip and I can see the fear in her eyes.

  She’s perfect. What she told me is going to be a huge help. I have a hunch I know someone involved in this case, and I’m hoping we’ll get lucky.

  We eat breakfast together, and she keeps stealing shy little glances in my direction. I know what she’s thinking and I want her to think it. She’s wondering when I’m going to fuck her again.

  I want to tell her it’ll be soon, so long as she makes me happy.

  “Get dressed,” I say to her when we’re finished. “I’ll do the dishes.”

  She shrugs and heads back off to her room. I clean up and when I’m finished, she’s back out and ready.

  “Where are we going?” she asks as I lead her up the steps.

  “To see a man named Dean Fish.”

  “Dean Fish?” She frowns. “Never heard of him.”

  “Of course not. You’re not from this town.”

  She shrugs a little. “Is he important?”

  We push through the door at the top of the steps and I take her hand, pulling her through the house. I know she’s seen this much once before but I don’t want to let her linger.

  “He’s important,” I say.

  “What’s he do?”

  “He manages… well, he manages the town.”

  “He’s the mayor?”

  I shake my head. “Not exactly.”

  “You’re being vague.”

  I lead her out to my car and I let her sit up front. “I know.” I get in next to her and pull slowly back down the long driveway. “It’s hard to explain.”

  She’s looking out the window and I know what she’s thinking. She’s wondering how she can escape, how she can get away.

  I think I might let her go, if she really wants to run. It’s a strange thought, because I’ve never let someone run before. But every time I think about keeping Emma in my basement against her will forever, I feel almost…

  Bad. I feel almost fucking bad.

  That’s not like me.

  I don’t feel bad about things. I never have. I think I might be broken, or there’s something inside of me that’s broken, but either way I’ve never felt much guilt. I’ve always taken what I wanted, when I wanted it, including whatever fucking girl I needed.

  Emma, though, she’s different. I can’t tell why. Maybe it’s because she obeys so well, or because she wants to obey instead of constantly fighting me, but she’s different. I find myself wanting her more than I’ve ever wanted someone in my life.

  And now I need her to help me if I’m going to keep helping her.

  We drive in silence for a little bit. I let her look around. We’re deep in the woods, so even if she made it to the road somehow, it’d be hard to get away without me catching her. I probably wouldn’t chase, but she doesn’t need to know that.

  “I need you to be good,” I say softly as we pull onto the main road and head into town.

  She looks at me sharply. “Excuse me?”

  “I need you to be good,” I repeat.

  “You think I’ll embarrass you or something?”

  “No,” I say, smiling at that. The idea of her embarrassing me is silly, given the situation. “No, I’m worried about you trying to get away.”

  Her eyes narrow but she doesn’t speak right away. “Why should I stay?” she says softly.

  “Same reason you came with me to start with.”

  She bites her lip. “I’m not sure I believe you anymore.”

  I smile but it’s my turn to stay silent. She watches me carefully and I know what she’s thinking.

  “Listen,” I say softly, forcing her to lean closer. “I understand how you feel. But if you stay, we can solve this little murder problem, and maybe we can do much more than just that.”

  “More?” she asks, almost like she’s greedy.

  I just smile and keep driving.

  * * *

  Dean has an office in a little building at the center of town. It doesn’t have a sign out front, nothing to tell you that he’s in there, toiling away all day, but every important person in this town knows where to find Dean Fish.

  “He runs this place,” I say softly.

  “You told me that already. But who is he, the mayor or something?”

  “No,” I say. “He’s the representative of a very, very rich family.”

  “Rich family?” She snorts. “So what?”

  “They own this town, or at least they used to. They’re all gone now, but the money still lingers, and Dean controls it all.”

  “So he runs things in their place.”

  “More or less.” I frown and hesitate in front of the door. “Dean isn’t such a bad guy. Actually, I think he’s trying to do good for this town. But… this town isn’t good.” I look at her, head cocked. “Doesn’t matter what your intentions are. This town twists everyone it touches.”

  She stares at me as I push through the door and we walk into the building.

  It’s not creepy, like you might expect. It looks like any other boring office building. We ride the elevator up to the second floor, walk down a short hallway, and step into Fish’s office.

  His secretary looks up and recognizes me right away.

  “Hi, Darcy,” I say to her. “Is Dean around?”

  She smiles brightly at me. “Well, if it isn’t our handsome police chief.”

  “You doing okay?”

  “Doing great now.” Darcy grins at me and glances at Emma, but doesn’t say anything. “He’s back there, but he’s got visitors.”

  “He always does.”

  She laughs a little. “True. Want to wait?”

  “Sure. Mind telling him I’m here?”

  “No problem.”

  I walk over and sit down. Emma sits next to me. Darcy picks up her phone, says something softly into the receiver, and then gives me a little smile.

  It’s always like this. I doubt Fish has anyone important back there, but he always likes to keep you waiting.

  Ten minutes later, Dean himself comes strolling out from the back. He’s a handsome guy, used to be a football player back in the day, although now he’s gotten a little softer in his old age. He laugh
s as he walks over to me.

  “Hey, man,” he says. I get up and shake his hand.

  “How’s it going, Dean?” I ask.

  “Going good, going good. And who is this?” He looks at Emma, his eyes brightening just a bit.

  I can’t blame him. She’s gorgeous.

  “Emma,” I say. “Just an associate.” I pull his attention back to me. “Can we talk in private?”

  His face falters a bit. “What about?”

  “You hear about the murder?”

  He shakes his head sadly. “Fucked-up shit, Chief.”

  “I know it. Mind if we talk?”

  “Well, I don’t know how I can help, but I’ll sure try. Come on back.”

  We walk past Darcy and down another hallway. There are other little offices, although I’ve never seen anyone in them.

  We step into what was probably meant to be the conference room. Now there are a bunch of chairs along the sides and a desk at the far end. A bunch of guys are sitting around a round table in the far corner, playing cards, like straight out of a gangster movie.

  That’s probably pretty accurate. The guys all look like fucking thugs, after all. They’re ex-football players just like Dean, working for him now that it’s hard to find work elsewhere. They do his dirty work and they get away with a lot.

  I scan their faces as Emma looks around, and I spot exactly what I came here for. My heart fucking leaps as a guy with a crooked nose goes completely still.

  Emma stares at him blatantly like she’s in a dream.

  I let it linger for a second, just to be sure, but yeah, it’s him. She’s staring right at him, and he looks like a deer in the headlights.

  I grab her arm gently and steer her toward Dean’s desk. I don’t need to go through the rest of this, but we might as well play the game.

  Mitch Ware, one of Dean’s oldest friends, and a big fucking asshole. He’s one of Dean’s go-to guys for a little muscle.

  A story of what happened starts to fit into place.

  “What can I do for you?” Dean asks.

  “I was hoping you might’ve heard something about that murder,” I say, crossing my legs. “You and Kaleb had some business, yeah?”