Rough 'n' Tough

by Lily Harlem

  He chuckled. “Well you’re gonna have to trust this wild gypsy pirate if you wanna to come harder than you ever have before.”

  “You make lavish promises.”

  “I can keep them.” As he’d spoken he’d dropped to his knees, so his head was level with her groin.

  She ran her hands into his hair. It was tight against his head, being in its usual low ponytail.

  “Like this,” he said, scooping up her left leg so her foot was balanced on the soft bed. “I need to get to your sweet little pussy.”

  Carmel allowed him to manoeuver her stance wider, all the time her pulse pounding in her ears at the thought of feeling his tongue on her…down there.

  “You can make a noise,” he said. “If you need to. No one here will care.”

  “I’m not sure if I…oh…” He’d slid his fingers over her damp folds, found her entrance and pushed in. “Harper…” she gasped.

  She tensed her internal muscles around his fingers as he began to gently pump in and out of her. He was kissing the soft roundness at the base of her belly, exploring her skin, his stubble catching on her flesh. He moved his mouth lower, over her pubic hair then sought her clit with the tip of his tongue.

  “Mmm…yes…” she murmured, reaching for the band which held his hair back. She dragged it out then lost her fingers in the warm strands. “Like that…”

  She closed her eyes, lost to sensation as he expertly heightened her arousal with his fingers and tongue. Soft, wet clicking and the sound of her moisture on his tongue filled the dark room.

  “Oh God, please don’t stop.” She curled her toes and canted her hips forward for more of his expert ministrations. “It’s so…fucking…good…”

  Her pussy was clenching around him, the pressure in her clit building. She needed to come so badly. Let release claim her.

  After a few minutes he stood, though he kept his fingers lodged high.

  “I was just about to…” she wailed, glaring at him. “I was just about to come.”

  “I know. And you still will.” The heel of his hand caught on her clit and he continued to finger fuck her rubbing at her clit at the same time.

  “Oh…ah…okay…” She stared at his devilishly handsome face.

  His eyes were glittering, his mouth damp with her juices. He had her pinned up against the wall, his body flush with hers.

  He kissed her and she tasted herself. Her orgasm was hovering. Soon she’d let it overwhelm her. This man was an expert with his fingers and was hitting every spot, inside and out, just right.

  He cupped her breasts, each in turn, tweaking her nipples, then slid his hand to the base of her neck, mimicking a strangle hold.

  Pulling back from their kiss, he stared into her eyes. “Trust me.”

  “Yes. Oh…” She was lost to it. All she wanted to do was come. “Please…”

  He increased the pressure on her neck, more than mimicking a strangle hold, actually making it harder for her to breathe.

  “Harp…” She clutched his forearms. What was he doing?

  “Like this,” he whispered, excitement lacing his tone. “Come like this, it’ll be the best you ever had.”

  “But I…can’t.” Her throat was partially constricted. She could only drag in thin ribbons of air. “Breathe.”

  “That’s the idea,” he spoke against her lips. “Let it take you high.”

  He tightened his grip on her neck further but at the same time upped the speed and pressure of his hand on her pussy.

  She couldn’t fight the orgasm. She was on the last few seconds before it spun her out of control.

  Bucking against his hand, she clung to his forearms, pulling them to no avail.

  “Good girl, you’re there,” he said. “Come.”

  It was impossible to breathe, panic warred with ecstasy. Her vision was blurring, her skin alive with sensation.

  She was seeing into the depths of his eyes, his soul, as her climax ravished her. It tore from her pussy to her belly, around her arsehole and up her spine. Her scalp tingled, so did her toes. She’d never known spasms like it. Her internal walls clamping and releasing around his fingers. On and on it thudded, each pulse of pleasure as strong as the first.

  “Breathe,” he said, suddenly releasing her neck and cupping her cheek. “Breathe, baby.”

  But she didn’t, not for a second. Lost to the light show flickering in her brain, her vision, and the spirals of orgasm rolling through her. She didn’t want it to end. She’d never come so hard or for so long.

  “Now, breathe.” His voice was harsher. “Carmel. Fuck. Breathe will you.”

  She sucked in a long pull of air. Dragging it into her mouth, her windpipe and inflating her lungs.

  “That’s it.” He cupped her chin. “More like that.”

  She kind of nodded but he was still working her pussy. Her orgasm was a blissful wave ebbing and flowing now. She wanted it to stay forever.

  But as her lungs inflated the little black dots in her vision faded and the bliss reduced. Though in it’s place was an intense satisfaction. It reminded her of a warm cashmere blanket on a cold evening, or a decent glass of red wine after a long day.

  Eventually he pulled his fingers from her.

  She whimpered. “No…”

  He held her face in both of his hands.

  She tipped her head into the damp one. “That was…” She couldn’t find the words.

  “The hardest you ever came?” He grinned.

  “Yeah.” Dropping her arms to her sides, her limbs heavy, she stared at him. She swallowed, imagining she could still feel his hand on her neck and his fingers pressing her windpipe. “A little forewarning of your kinks would have been nice.”

  “Your kink.” He tilted one side of his mouth into a cocky smile. “You’re the one who just came like a banshee woman.”

  “You made me a banshee woman.” Fuck, had they really just done that? Had she come while struggling to breathe? That was hard core shit. Something she’d never even thought about let alone considered doing.

  He tipped his head as though reading her thoughts. “You asked me what I would have done to you in the pool. I just showed you.”

  She was still breathing fast, her chest rising and falling against his.

  “I guessed you’d never had a bit of edgy play, what with all those posh eejits you go out with, I wanted to be your first at something.”

  “That was definitely a first.”

  “Good.” He bit on his bottom lip and glanced down at her chest connected to his. Her nipples were grazing his flesh. “And now you’re gonna come again, with me.”

  She nodded. “Yes.” She was sure she would orgasm again easily, the flick of his tongue, a rub of his fingers. Her pussy was so sensitive, almost quivering.

  “Get on the bed, hands and knees,” he said, spanning his hands at her waist. “So I can fuck you from behind and appreciate the sight of your sweet arse.”

  Chapter Eight

  Carmel allowed Harper to manoeuvre her into position her feet hanging off the end of the bed, knees spread. She locked her elbows and stared at the pattern on the bedding directly beneath her—an intricate knot of flowers and thorns.

  “Jeez, you’ve got me hard enough to hammer nails,” he said, palming her arse cheeks. “So fucking hot.”

  “Yes,” she murmured, shifting her hips from left to right, impatient for him to penetrate her.

  “Get ready for me,” he said. “And remember, it’s okay to cry out.”

  Oh God. What other kinks did he have up his sleeve?

  He released her and she sensed him fumbling with his trousers.

  Bang. Bang.

  “Boss, the fucking pigs are here.” A panicked shout from outside. “Harper! Pigs!”

  Bang. Bang.

  “What the…?” There was alarm in Harper’s voice.

  “What is it?” Carmel said, looking over her shoulder.

  Harper had spun to the window and pulled back the cur
tain. “Fuck!”

  “Boss…”

  Bang. Bang.

  “Okay, Brent, shut it.” Harper did up his trousers. “Get the hell up and dressed.”

  “But?”

  “The fucking police are here. You really want them to find you naked in my caravan?”

  “No.” She jumped up. “Shit. No.”

  “Didn’t think so.” He stooped and held her shorts for her to step into, dragged them up her legs.

  Carmel’s belly clenched. She thought she might be sick. Oh God. What if they found her here, freshly finger fucked by a sexy Irish gypsy. It would never be kept quiet, not here, not in this nosy bloody village.

  “Quick.” He wacked her sweater over her head and helped her shove her arms into the sleeves. It was clear underwear wasn’t a necessity. Or, it seemed, were shoes as he grabbed her hand and towed her from the bedroom and then outside.

  At the far end of the field, near the fire, two police cars, lights flashing but no sirens, were pulling up. The travellers had circled them, almost like a swarm.

  “Fucking hell,” Harper muttered as he stuck to the side of the caravan, pulling her along. He kept his head low, as they scooted out of view.

  “Why are they here?” Carmel asked, breathing fast. The grass was cold and damp on her feet, the air cool on her bare legs.

  “No sodding idea.” He frowned. “But you can’t hang about.”

  “I know. I know.” She glanced around. Could she run home from here? Probably. Nearly. It was over several fields, then there was a stile at the side of their property, near the summerhouse. She could get through there.

  Harper released her hand. “Wait here.”

  “But…”

  He disappeared around the end of the caravan, but only for a moment, then he reappeared, on horseback.

  It was a beautiful big piebald cob with feathers around its fetlocks and a long shaggy mane. The only tack was what appeared to be a make-do roped halter.

  “You said you can ride,” he said, trotting up to her, his body flowing with the movements of the horse’s stride.

  “Er, yes.”

  “So come on. Hop on.”

  “But?”

  “You haven’t got time to wish you had a fancy leather saddle. This is what it is.”

  “Yes. Yes. Okay.” A million thoughts were cramming into her brain, but she pushed them all aside. Harper had found a solution, a way to get her out of the camp…quickly.

  And damn he looked wild sitting atop a big horse, his hair lifting on the post-storm breeze. His chest bare and the muscles in his biceps and forearms tense as he held the reins.

  “Jeez woman!” He held out his hand. “Now.”

  She took it and launched herself behind him. With his help she was quickly sitting astride the horse with her arms wrapped around his waist.

  The horsehair was a little sharp on her inner thighs and calves. And it was a much wider than the skinny polo ponies she was used to.

  “Hang on tight,” he said, digging in his heels.

  The horse transitioned from walk to canter, moving with surprising ease and grace considering its size.

  “Fuck,” Carmel muttered, hanging onto Harper even tighter. Luckily he had a solid seat even when they swerved around a trailer and over a hump in the grass.

  Within seconds they were slipping through a gate into the next field, one brimming with a crop of yellow oil seed. Harper stuck to the edge, still going at a fast pace.

  The horse’s hooves were dull thuds on the ground, and it released a slight snort with each stride.

  Harper’s hair tangled with Carmel’s as she peered over his shoulder, her breasts pressing up against his naked back.

  “You okay, lovely?” he asked.

  “Yes…I am.” And she was. She really was. Had she ever felt so free? So liberated? So wildly impulsive and sexy? She didn’t think so. Fresh from an orgasm, mounted on a gypsy horse and clinging to the sexy, kinky rider, was one of the most exciting things to have ever happened to her.

  She grinned as her body moved in time with the horse and Harper. A big, genuine smile that balled her cheeks and made her chest feel full of wonder.

  What she’d done was risky, foolhardy even. But she’d taken the bull by the horns and for a short time never felt alive, a spirit of the night. Nothing and no one could bring her down.

  Harper glanced over his shoulder.

  Carmel followed his line of sight.

  The lights of the camp were in the distance now.

  “I think we’ll be grand,” he said.

  “Yes. No one saw us.”

  “Nah, the coppers were distracted. Gave us a fighting chance.”

  “I appreciate this,” she said, adjusting her balance as they rounded a corner after an open gate.

  He chuckled. “I promised I’d get you home, right.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “I’m a few things I ain’t proud of but what I can say is I’m a man of my word.”

  “You are.” She pressed her chin to his shoulder. “And I think you have lots of qualities to be proud of.”

  “Yeah, that’s just post orgasm talk.”

  “No, it’s not. Really.”

  The next field was flat, the grass short. Harper kicked the horse on, moving them into a stretched out gallop.

  Carmel felt adrenaline slip into her bloodstream. She’d never even ridden without a safety hat before, so now, in hardly any clothes, no tack, the extreme speed was exhilarating. The grass beneath them a blur, the moon above highlighting their way, and the wind went through her toes. Harper was hot and strong and the horse willing and fit.

  Eventually they slowed to a walk by the stile on the east side of her parents’ property.

  “Will this do ya?” Harper asked. “I figure it’s only a few minute walk to the house from here.”

  “Yes. It’s perfect.”

  The horse came to a halt and reluctantly Carmel released Harper and slid to the ground, landing lightly on her feet.

  ‘I gotta go,” he said, jerking his head in the direction they’d just come. “See what the hell is going on.”

  “Of course.”

  He pressed a kiss to the tips of his fingers, then leaned down and touched her cheek as though transferring the kiss. “Was fun though.”

  “It was.”

  Shit. Was this it? Would she never see him again?

  A wave of sorrow washed through her. Her night of excitement was over. Her moment of wild abandon with a hugely unsuitable man had barely begun when it was cut short.

  “Hey, don’t be sad. Life’s too short.” Straightening, he gathered his reins. “Come on, gee-up.” He dug his heels into the horse.

  The horse responded instantly, seeming to harness its energy for a split second before taking off at an even faster pace than before.

  Carmel ran her hands over her hair and blew out a breath as she watched them race into the distance. After a few seconds they rounded the bend and were stolen by the night.

  “What the heck?” she muttered, glancing down at her bare feet. “Am I going to do now?”

  There was no choice, though, but to walk barefoot through the copse to home.

  When she finally let herself in through the kitchen door her time in the caravan and riding bareback through the night with a bad boy traveller was beginning to feel like a dream.

  Maybe it had been.

  Except for the fact she had no underwear and her feet were filthy.

  ***

  “Would you like more tea?” her mother asked, hovering the pot over Carmel’s cup. “You look tired.”

  “I’m fine, but yes, please.”

  Her mother poured.

  Her father helped himself to a spoonful of sugar for his tea.

  “Half a spoon,” her mother admonished. “You know the new rules.”

  He tutted but tipped some of the sugar back into the pot. “I hear the gypsies have moved on.”

  “Oh thank goo
dness.” Her mother placed the pot down with a bump. “It was setting my nerves having all those…strange people so close.”

  “How do you know they’re strange?” Carmel asked, trying to hide the disappointment in her face. Harper had gone. That really was it. That was all they were ever going to have together. And they hadn’t even fucked, not properly. She’d never got to feel his cock in her, hear his moans as he came. She’d been cheated out of the experience.

  Her mother shuddered. “Strange is a polite term. They’re vermin. Liars, cheats, conmen, moralless good for nothings.”

  “Wow,” Carmel said. “That’s a damning sweeping statement.”

  “It’s common knowledge.” She frowned. “I’m thrilled they’re away from here.”

  Carmel sipped her tea. She didn’t trust herself to speak. She’d dreamt of Harper then woken thinking of him, wondering if she could get to him somehow, at the camp. A loose plot to walk over there, through the fields, had formed in her mind. But there was no point now. Not if the travellers had moved on.

  “Old McGowan will be glad to have his field back.” Carmel’s father pushed a half eaten bowl of muesli to one side.

  “I’m sure.” Her mother was distracted, looking at her phone. “Oh, dear.”

  “What is it?” Carmel asked.

  “I’ve just had a message from Martha, you know, your Cedric’s mother.”

  Carmel had to stop herself wincing at the name. “He’s not my Cedric.” She clenched her jaw.

  “Well you know what I mean.” She wafted her hand in the air. “Seems there was trouble last night at her place.” She shook her head and looked at the text again. “Oh dear, oh dear, poor Martha. Not only was Cedric’s car vandalised, the tyres slashed and paintwork scratched, but the house was burgled.”

  “That’s terrible.” Carmel said.

  Cedric’s tyres slashed?

  Her father frowned. “It is terrible.”

  “She’s had jewellery stolen. What a shame.” She sighed. “I’ll have to go and see her. Perhaps you’ll come, Carmel. I’m sure Cedric would be pleased to see you. You could comfort him.”

  Carmel stood. This had gone on too long. Regardless whether Harper and his men had anything to do with Cedric’s car, she had to put a halt to the ridiculous notion her mother had about her and Cedric ever being an item. “Mother, I have no interest in Cedric. He was a horrible boyfriend and I was glad to be rid of him. We are never, I repeat, never getting back together.”