“Don’t worry, I’ll teach you a thing or two,” he whispers into my ears. “I’m not gonna let you go until you have what you came for …” he adds. “Me.”
“Like you’d give me your head,” I reply.
“No, my cock will have to do,” he says, and I can hear him grin. “Because that’s what you want, right? You’ve been yearning for it for so long now, always eyeing me whenever you can, wanting every woman to stay away from me as if you already own me …”
“Ridiculous,” I reply, but as his hand slides down my body, I completely forget what I was about to say.
He undoes the button on my pants and rips down my zipper.
“What are you doing?” I ask, trying to tell myself not to enjoy any of it.
“Giving you what you want … what you deserve,” he says, pulling down my pants.
Before I know it, my panties are gone too. I squeal, but he covers my mouth with his hand and whispers into my ear, “Let me give it to you then.”
His fingers dive between my legs. When his fingers thrum on my pussy, I writhe under his touch. Fuck this body as it’s betraying me right this very second. I can feel myself getting more excited, wetness spreading through my folds as he fingers me expertly. And fuck me … I’m actually starting to like it.
But I can’t. He’s a monster. The devil himself.
Yet I’m giving in like some willing victim.
“Wait,” I mumble, but I don’t even know what I’m going to say or why I want him to wait.
Part of me wants to bite him … and another part of me wants to gleefully give in to the pleasure.
Ugh. Why am I so conflicted?
“See, you enjoy me claiming this pussy …” he whispers into my ear with that dark voice of his. “You’re practically begging me to.”
My face is on the ground, and dry dust enters my nostrils as I try to breathe in deep. He’s on top of me, nudging my legs apart. A zipper is ripped open. My heart palpitates.
“You wanted me to give it to you, so now you’ll have it,” he says. “Every. Fucking. Inch.”
His hard-on presses against my outer thigh.
Pushing between my legs, he enters me from behind, bombarding my senses.
“Fuck … I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he says with a guttural groan, one that makes my pussy thump. Fuck him and the fucking filthy way he turns me on. He’s a dirtbag for fucking me in the dark outback. I should scold him and curse him.
Instead, I’m lying here facedown in the soil while he thrusts in deep. And I actually want it.
I gasp, accepting his full length as if I was meant to do it all along.
He’s thick and huge and overpowering as he starts thrusting in and out, slowly at first, as if he wants to toy not just with my body but with my mind too.
He slides aside my hair and licks the rim of my ear. “Did you dream about me fucking you like this, Dixie? Back when we were young?” he whispers.
“I wished you dead,” I hiss back.
It’s not a lie. I really did.
But I also had many fantasies before he turned them into fire.
“I can smell your desire, Dixie. You can’t hide it from me.” With a finger, he circles my wet clit while slamming into me too, causing a barrage of sensations I can barely deal with.
“You can pretend you don’t like it, but we both know the truth,” he growls, making my eyes roll into the back of my head. “Just like you pretend you didn’t love that pie I bought for you, or how I made you come right in front of me, or how you saw me jerk off in the shower. You’re only lying to yourself, but you can’t fool me.”
He thrusts harder and faster with each passing second, and my pussy is only getting wetter. I hate that I love it so much. Even when he grabs my ass and slaps it a few times as though he owns my body, I mewl in delight.
Fuck. Me.
“I’ll fuck the sense into you, Dixie,” he growls. “I’ll fuck you until you finally see what you’re doing. Until you finally own up to your piece of the misery that’s us.”
“I won’t,” I hiss with the little amount of breath I have.
“Yes. You. Will.” He rams in hard with each word, burying himself to the base, causing me to moan out loud. “And you will answer for your crime.”
“I didn’t do shit!” I yell as he thrusts into me with full force.
“Another lie.” He starts rubbing my clit. “But I’ll fuck them all out of you.”
His fingers play with me so expertly, I’m having trouble breathing. My legs quiver as he circles my clit and touches all the good spots inside me. He knows just how to hit it to make me go mad, and I fucking hate it.
I hate how much I love it, and I hate how much he makes me wanna beg to come.
“I should’ve done this when we were younger. Maybe then you wouldn’t have betrayed me,” he growls.
“Fuck no, I would’ve never let you,” I reply. In his fucking dreams.
“You sure are letting me now,” he retorts, slapping my ass, making me jolt. “You want this to stop? Better come fast because I don’t intend to quit until you do.”
Fuck. Anything but that. I don’t want to give him that satisfaction. But damn, is he making it hard.
He slaps me again, this time on the other ass cheek. “And then I’m gonna fill this pussy to the brim.”
I don’t even comprehend what he’s saying. That’s how delirious I am. Lust has taken control of my brain and turned it to mush.
He bangs me so hard and so fast, I forget everything I should be saying to him, everything I should be thinking. All I can feel is … wantonness.
He leans over and brushes my hair aside. “Come for me, Dixie,” he whispers into my ear. He tightens his grip on my ass while simultaneously rubbing my clit. “Come.”
His dark, seductive voice is enough for me to explode. My body buzzes as ecstasy ripples through me, causing me to lose my grounding momentarily, but he holds me upright in his arms.
“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” he groans.
Three more thrusts and his dick pulses inside me. Warm cum jets inside, and I moan along with him like the slut I am … Like the slut he always knew I was.
I can feel it drip out of me when he pulls out, and I try to slip out from underneath him, but he keeps me propped up.
“Oh, no, I’m not done yet,” he growls.
“What?” I mutter as he positions himself behind me.
“Keep your fucking ass up or there will be trouble,” he commands.
I don’t know why I listen. Why the fuck my legs won’t move. Why I let him do this to me.
Am I that much of a masochist? Or does a part of me actually believe him? That I actually need this punishment?
Because I don’t even protest the moment he says, “I’m gonna fuck your ass now, and you’re gonna love every inch of me inside you.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Brandon
With a wet dick that’s still hard as fuck, I position myself at her back entrance and push inside. She gasps, unable to control the loud moan that leaves her mouth.
I know she hates this, and that’s exactly why I’m doing it. She needs to be punished for trying to shoot me again. Defying me has its price … and right now, it’s me claiming her ass.
It should’ve belonged to me long ago, but she thought she could take it away from me. Not anymore. I’m not listening to her nonsense; it’s all lies, and she knows it. We both know she needed this. She needed to be put down in order to justify the fact that she’s aroused. She’s telling herself she has no choice, yet here she is gleefully accepting my dick up her ass. In fact, I can practically see her drool right now.
I snort, and say, “See? You like this.”
“Shut up,” she snarls, so I go inside a little farther until it starts to hurt again.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” I say, pushing farther and farther. I want to see that twinge on her face. That moment when it becomes a little too much. Then I�
�ll push on, forcing her to realize she’s at my mercy and that she has no control over this. She needs to learn to submit.
“Fuck,” she murmurs when I’m almost in to the base.
“Take it,” I growl, grasping a handful of her hair so I can pull her head back. “Take it like the slut you are.”
I’ve never called her names, but she deserves them for putting me through all this pain. For trying to kill me twice now. And for denying us both the pleasure we deserve so much.
“Don’t fucking call me that,” she hisses.
I start thrusting into her ass and slap it for good measure too. “I’ll call you whatever the fuck I want, cupcake.”
She growls again but doesn’t say another word.
She knows she can’t go against me. Not when I’m the one holding all the reins.
She should just accept what I give her. It’s a small price to pay for the enjoyment.
Besides, she’s a liar if she claims she doesn’t like this. I can tell from her face and the way her lips form an o and her eyes roll into the back of her head whenever I hit that point. Fuck, I love fucking her ass.
I should’ve done this a long time ago and not given a fuck about what she thought, or what anyone else thought, for that matter.
We’ve been too busy with pleasing others instead of ourselves. Well, that’s about to change.
This is my second time taking her body, and I don’t intend for it to be the last. The more I fuck with her, the more I’m beginning to enjoy it. Maybe there’s more to us than fighting and hatred. Maybe there’s more to get here than revenge.
And who said pain and pleasure can’t go hand in hand?
I can give her plenty of both …
I slap her ass again and grasp the ties around her wrists to hold while I fuck her hard. The gun is a few feet away, right in front of her. So close, yet too far to grasp. “Look at that.” I make her lift her head. “Do you see it, Dixie? The gun. Look at it and see your defeat. Look at it and know I’m claiming your ass instead. Look at it and know where you belong.”
I pound into her with everything I have. For years, I fixated on her, tempted by the mere thought of holding her in my arms. And now that I finally have her, I’ll make her see how good it can be with me.
So I start rubbing her again even though she just came. This is the pain I’ll give her. The constant influx of delicious sensations bombarding her. I want her to fall apart again and again until she finally realizes there’s nothing better than this. Nothing.
And then I’ll take it all away again and leave her in pieces.
Just like she did me.
“Fuck, I’m gonna come again,” she says. “Fuck!”
“Such a fucking potty mouth,” I say, circling her clit.
Right as she comes, I stick a finger up her pussy just to feel it, and fuck me, do I love it.
I don’t stop slamming into her ass, burying myself deep inside her while she’s helpless to stop me. Her body has even started moving along with my rhythm, accepting my length in full as if she relishes the feel of me inside her.
And I come so fucking hard I roar while my seed jets into her, filling up both her holes.
Perfect. Just like her fucking body, which I can’t stop fondling even when I pull my dick out.
Cum slides down her legs as she sinks to the ground, her eyes closed, her body still shaking from the ordeal. I know what I can do to women, but I don’t think she knew.
“Fuck,” she mumbles.
A smirk forms on my lips. “That’s what you get for trying to fuck with me. I fuck you back with double the pain.” I slap her ass once more for good measure.
* * *
Dixie
I scramble off the ground on hands and knees. “God, I fucking hate you.”
A dirty laugh comes from his mouth. “Sure, you do.”
“I fucking do!” I yell, gazing at him with eyes full of fire. But it’s not hatred I feel in my heart. Only confusion over what just happened and how I feel about it.
He grabs my chin and makes me look at him. “You’re only trying to fool yourself.”
I jerk my head away from his grip, and say, “Put my clothes back on.”
“Ask nicely first,” he muses, smiling when I give him a scowl. God, he’s so fucking annoying.
“Please,” I add with sarcasm attached.
Apparently, it’s enough for him because he finally puts my clothes back on. Fuck me, am I glad. I don’t wanna lie naked in the dirt all night. If I’d tried to steal his gun again, he probably would make me do just that, knowing him. Not that I can … I’m still tied up.
“You forgot something,” I say. “Untie me.”
“Give me one good reason,” he says, snorting, looking amused.
I want to slap the grin off his face. “Haven’t you punished me enough?”
“No. Not nearly,” he responds while putting his pants back on. He walks over to the gun and picks it up, tucking it back into his pocket. My eyes can’t help but follow the metal, though. I can’t give up. No matter what he does to me or how filthy he makes me feel, I want justice. I don’t care what I have to do to make it happen. I owe it to my brothers. I owe it to me. Because I won’t be able to live with myself if I don’t do something. And I know he knows that too.
“Why? Why do you think you have the right to punish me?” I ask. “You’re the murderer.”
“Are you trying to tell me you didn’t try to blow up the hotel?” he says, sitting down by the fire again so he can continue eating that disgusting snack of his.
“You hate your uncle!” I say, trying to sit up too.
“I never said that,” he replies, narrowing my eyes.
“Oh, really? Then why didn’t you bring me to him? Why did you go against his wishes? Shoot his fucking men?” I ask.
“Because they were trying to steal you away from me.”
I snort. I can’t believe this guy. “Really? That’s the reason?”
Chivalrous intentions. Bad outcome.
“If anyone’s going to punish you for your crimes, it’s gonna be me,” he says.
I make a face and then laugh. “That can’t be any more hypocritical.”
“Expensive words won’t get you out of this mess, Dixie.”
Oh, fucking hell. As if he’s the one to talk.
I shake my head and turn around. “Fuck this.” I’m done with this asshole and all the ways he can make me dance like some puppet.
With my hands still tied on my back, I scoot forward on my knees, away from the fire. Always. It’s slow and looks ridiculous as fuck, but I won’t stop either. I’m determined even though I know I won’t get away. At least I can hold my head up with dignity.
One glance behind me is one too many. Sighing, he throws the last bit of burned lizard aside and gets up off the ground. I make haste, but he follows behind me as I attempt to make my great escape. I huff and puff, toiling away while trying not to fall.
Still, he passes me with ease at a slow strut, towering above me with that smug face of his. God, how badly do I wish my hands were untied right now so I could pull his ankles and get him down to my level.
I try to pass him instead, but he keeps moving along with me, blocking my path. I growl out loud and grasp his legs, trying to drag him down, but it won’t work.
He chuckles. “Just give up already.”
No. Never. Giving up would mean admitting that it’s pointless. That my whole need for vengeance was pointless … that I am pointless.
So I keep going, despite his warning.
Within seconds, he’s grabbed my shirt and lifted me from the ground. I fight him, but it’s no use with my hands tied. He swiftly spins me around and sits down on top of me, forcing me to remain where I am.
I don’t wanna believe it, but I know in my heart there’s no escaping this man or the memory of him. It’s as though our lives are forever entwined in the worst ways possible when neither of us wants them to be.
Tears well up in my eyes. “Why won’t you let me be?”
“You know damn well why,” he says.
“No,” I reply. “I don’t.”
“Stop pretending you aren’t guilty,” he says, planting his hands on the ground beside my head. “Stop trying to snake your way out of this. You and I both know what you did.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
He keeps circling back to this topic, but I have no clue what the fuck he’s talking about. Every time, he tries to make this about me, as if I did something wrong, when he’s the one who destroyed me and my family.
“The lighter, Dixie. Stop faking ignorance,” he hisses, making a fist and pounding the ground.
I blink a couple of times. “What lighter?”
He fishes something out of the pocket of his pants. “This.”
It’s a metallic Zippo. The silver flashes in my eyes, forcing me to remember that night filled with smoke and fire.
The fire he started after I broke up with him.
And the Zippo I found right in front of the farmhouse.
I swore to myself I’d never forgive him for what he did.
“You set my family’s income on fire,” I hiss at him.
“So you do remember,” he says, licking his top lip.
“I saw you leave,” I reply. “Of course, I remember that night. And the one when you murdered my fucking family. What did they ever do to you?”
He grips my throat and squeezes, practically stopping me from breathing.
“They. Killed. Mine.”
What? Killed his? What does he mean?
“Just like you’re killing me right now,” he growls, and then he lets go of my throat again.
“What are you talking about?” I mutter. “I didn’t kill anyone’s family.”
“No?” He clenches his teeth, clearly trying to hold back from actually killing me. “Because of you, my papa is dead.”
My eyes widen. “What? Mr. Locklear …”
“Gone,” he mutters, clutching the pendant around his neck. “Gone to my ma.”
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