by K. L. Savage
She hushes me by kissing me this time, and her lips are lava soaking into my veins, warming me from head to toe in the middle of this desert winter. My hands go from soft to hard along her jaw as I take control, slipping my tongue between her lips. This isn’t good. We’re nearly naked, her breasts are rubbing against my chest, my cock is hard and leaking, but I know the last thing I want to do is have sex with her here.
Mary deserves more than some haystack fuck.
No, she doesn’t even deserve to get fucked; she deserves better than that.
How the hell do I give it to her? I’ve never experienced anything like that before. I’ve never felt like this for anyone before. It’s consuming me.
Her hands slide down my chest as mine drift down her back; the smooth lines and the curve of her delicate spine have me growling low in my gut. Her fingers tease the waistband of my briefs, but they don’t slip under, so I take her lead.
I don’t grip her ass, I don’t cup her tits like I really want, because I want her to be able to call the shots.
And I’m not going to lie, having her fingers tease me like this is the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever experienced. My stomach clenches, and the touch feels… intimate. My brows pinch together, trying to understand what intimacy is.
I don’t love.
I break people.
I’m not a person someone takes a chance, on because I don’t let them.
I suck her lip into my mouth and groan as her nails sink into my hip bones. This is a bad idea. Just because we are getting along now doesn’t mean we always will. What if we aren’t constructed to love the way other people do?
Then I’ll deconstruct myself and find a way to build the foundation of who I am again. She deserves the effort for me to try.
“Knives,” she gasps, saying the only name that I’ve ever really felt like matched my soul. My cock jerks from how wispy my name sounds, falling off her lips. I lay us down on the blanket, fall to the side, so I’m not nestled between her legs like I want to be and keep my hands on her waist.
My balls pull against my body when she sucks my tongue into her mouth and strokes me like I’d imagined she would my cock. My eyes roll to the back of my head and a dollop of precum slides down my shaft.
“Mary,” I rumble her name, laying my forehead against hers as I try to bring this to a stop. “You have no idea what I want to do to you.” I slap my hands on either side of her head and grip the blanket in my fists, trying to squeeze out all the desire into the hay under us. My entire body shakes from roping in the control, nearly smothering me.
“I…we can…” she tries to find the words, but I interrupt her.
“I don’t want us to be here in this barn for the first time, Mary. I’m a fucking asshole, and I’ve done a lot of questionable things, but I won’t take you and claim you before you’re ready.”
“Claim me?” She lifts a curved brow at me, a questioning and challenging tone. She doesn’t like the idea of being owned.
That’s too fucking bad.
“Claim you,” I lower my voice. “Fucking show you who owns you and this body, show you that the only fight you’re going to give me from now on is the one you relent when I’m ten inches deep.”
Her mouth drops open, and the flames allow me to see the blush staining her cheeks. “Knives… I—”
“—Not now, or tomorrow, but when you’re ready. You can act like the cut sluts all you want, Mary, but I know better. You aren’t the kind of woman to give yourself up like that.”
“Maybe I don’t want to be claimed. Or owned. Ever think about that?”
Her sudden reversal has me defensive.
“Mary, it’s not—”
“Maybe I should be the one claiming you. Maybe I want to make you mine.”
That throws me for a loop. I look down at her, then look back up, totally at a loss for what to respond.
“Does that bother you?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest to hide herself. I haven’t seen her like this before, naïve, but I guess she is. The only person she’s been with is her father, and that makes me fucking sick.
I wrap my fingers around her wrists and gently lay them on either side of her body so I can see the mounds of her tits hiding behind that bra. “No, Hellraiser. You’re making me learn a lot, that’s all.”
“Is this a joke? How can we be at each other’s throat one minute and laying here the next? I want nothing but to kiss you again, but if we are going to fight all the time again, maybe we shouldn’t do this.”
“I’m not going to let it stop me.” I don’t care if we fight, if she screams, or if she punches me in the stomach with the fake leg I got her for Christmas. Headache and all, temper and all, fights, screams, and everything else in between.
I don’t care what comes with this.
I realize what I want—no—what I need is her.
I have no idea what I’m doing or why.
All I know is Knives is more than I thought he was. No, that isn’t true. I always thought there was more to him than meets the eye, but he hid behind his ice-cold demeanor, the frozen tundras of his eyes, and his ninja stars.
We fought each other because we were fighting what we felt for one another. Things still might not be perfect. From the sounds of it, we don’t know how to have a good thing when we have been surrounded by bad.
He grew up poor and lost everything.
I grew up rich and had nothing.
We are cut from the same cloth.
“Can I watch you and you watch me? Because I need to take the edge off, Knives.”
I barely have the question out of my mouth before he seals his lips on me again. He slides between my legs, his hard cock rubbing against my clit, and his hands slide down my shoulders, cupping my breasts, and he groans into my mouth. Every inch of me is lost in the touch he gives. I’ve never been touched like this.
My dad stole from me.
I’ve never been explored, and Knives wants to. I can tell he is trying to respect me at the same time, and it only has my heart falling for him even more. I whimper and cry out when something hard like metal slides over my bundle of nerves again. My eyes widen, and my entire body tenses. Knives backpedals and sits on his knees, staring down at me. His chest booms with every breath he takes, and he inches his briefs down until his cock bobs free.
“Holy mother of….” I pinch my lips together and sit up on my elbows, a gush of heat leaving my center and wetting my panties when I see the beautiful, erotic sight in front of me. Of course, his cock is magnificent, just like the rest of his.
Long.
Thick.
And pierced.
He has a Jacob’s Ladder and two hoops on his crown, reminding me of horns. My eyes drift to the 666 tattoo, and it makes sense.
The plum-colored head is nearly purple with how hard he is and how much blood is pumping through. I can’t tear my eyes off him. He has a slight curve to the left, and I have to dig my fingers in the blanket to stop myself from reaching out.
I lick my lips, watching the palm of his hand wrap tight around the thick shaft and pump. My breaths leave me in tiny bursts. I lift my hand, trickle my fingers down the middle of my chest, slide down the bumps of my ribs, and tease the edge of my panties. “Kiss me,” I tell him, but he shakes his head.
Does he not want to do this anymore? Disappoint slams through me, and I look away from him, tearing my eyes off a man I’ll never be able to forget.
“If I kiss you, and I want to, I’m going to push those panties to the side and slide into that hot cunt, because I’ll be able to feel the cushion of your lips against me. I’m only so strong, Mary.”
“Oh,” I say, locking our eyes together again.
“Oh, is right,” he says as he tugs on the rings attached to the crown of his cock. He groans, continuing the tease. A bead of precum leaks off the tip and drips down the vein protruding along the ten inches. “Do you know how beautiful you are, my little Hellraiser?” he asks, using
not one but both of his hands to grip his cock and jack it. “What you do to me, what you’ve always done to me?”
I shake my head, keeping quiet as I dip my finger below the waistband of my panties. My fingers slide through my wet folds, and I moan in my throat, dropping my jaw when I feel how hot I am.
“That fucking mouth, that temper, every time you fought me, you have no idea how bad I wanted to bend you over…” he can’t finish his sentence because he speeds up his thrusts, moving his hips, so he fucks his palms. He tosses his head back, the tendons on his neck tensing, and just like the rest of him, his cock seems so mad, so intense, and all I want to do is show him how fucking unique he is.
Unique because I’m going to assume there are not a lot of men with so many piercings in their dick.
Knives must like the pain, which also helps me understand him a bit more. The scars on his knuckles because of how much he plays with his stars, the tattoos all over him, the piercings… does he truly like pain, or does he think he deserves it?
His chin drops to his chest as he looks at me. “I thought we were going to watch each other?”
“Sorry, I got caught up in watching you,” I say and sit up, becoming eye level with the intimidation of his cock. I don’t have the courage to take him in my mouth. I’ve never done that before, but I also don’t want us to do things we aren’t ready for, only for me to be disappointed when we walk out of this barn to the real world and go back to who we used to be?
What if this barn is all there is? What if when we are home, the bickering and slight frustration comes roaring back? The last thing I want is to have sex with a guy who winds up treating me like everyone else he has ever been with.
I trust Knives with my life. I know he’ll protect me, but my heart? The heart is another matter, a delicate one, something that can break without being put back together again.
Life has room for fault, but the heart does not, or the fault line makes it fracture.
I purse my lips and blow on his throbbing cock, getting a good view of the piercings decorating his length. I’m in awe that I like it so much. I never thought I’d be into something like that, but my tongue twitches to flick out and tug on the silver loops, then lick the ladder.
His knees buckle as I tease him. My nails scratch along his legs as I move up his body and grip his hips. Knives has a V-shape of muscle on either side, leading to the thick patch of hair settling around the base of his cock. He is more than I could have imagined.
I lean down, staying away from his cock, but I can feel the heat of it as I lay my lips on the delicate skin of his V, right along the V. I move to the other side, kissing him there too, grabbing onto the lust I’ve been feeling for him all this time. It feels good to let go of the anger and just be.
Keeping my nails stroking his thighs, I blow air on his cockhead again, watching a bead of precum drip from the slit. I want to lick up and taste him. Does he taste sweet? Salty? Maybe he tastes like nothing. I kiss my way up his ribs, and he is panting, his stomach rising and falling as he struggles to take in a lungful of air.
“Jesus Christ, if you keep doing this, I might come,” he admits, taking me by complete surprise. He acts as if no one has explored him either. What kind of woman would do that when a man like Knives is with her?
“Good,” I tell him, making sure to keep a distance from his groin. I graze my nails up his sides and around his back, staying away from his ass as I drag them up his spine. I move around his shoulders, dragging the blunt edges of my fingers down his chest. I kiss his right nipple, lick it, then blow on the bead too. I watch as the pink bud tightens, reacting to the wet and cold. Grinning, I move to the other one and do the same before I kiss my way down his other side, loving the scratch of his hair against my palm.
I’m level with his cock again, staring at the beast before me. I can’t help but wonder how he will fit in my mouth when the day comes. His hands land on my shoulders, and as a quick goodbye, I kiss the head, letting the bead of precum drop onto my lower lip before I lay back down on the blanket.
Licking him off me so I can taste his flavor, I moan as my taste buds awaken. I tug my panties down, remembering what I said about watching each other, and spread my legs so he can see me.
All of me.
Sitting back, his eyes hood when he watches me slide through my folds, the wet sounds mixing with the rain falling to the ground outside. Like Knives, I use two hands. One to plunge two fingers inside me, while I use the other to circle my engorged clit.
My back bows as my thighs tremble, and Knives growls. “Fuck, you’re killing me. No one has ever teased me like that before. You’re going to be the goddamn death of me, Hellraiser. I knew you were fucking trouble.”
I remember that I need to watch him, so I bring my head down to see him furiously fucking his fist, his stare locked onto my cunt. “Knives, it feels so good.” I want to tell him to touch me, but I’m already addicted to his kiss. I’m afraid if I give in, then I’ll always want more from him. Reality is different than being locked away alone.
I should know.
For too long, my mind was bent and shaped by my father, a man who made sure he was alone with me every chance he got.
No, I can’t think about him right now. I don’t want him ruining this.
“I’m close,” I say to Knives, feeling the trembling warmth of an orgasm brewing in my body. “I’m so close.” My toes curl, and Knives tugs on the horns again, stretching the tip of his cock in rhythm with his strokes.
“That pussy looks delicious. You have no idea how bad I want to taste you; how bad I want to slide in and fill that cunt to the fucking brim until you’re dripping with me. I’m close. Goddamn it, I’m so close.” His hand jerks faster, and I move my fingers at the same speed, circling my clit in desperation, so we fall over the edge together.
“Knives,” I breathe. “Oh—oh, yes!” I shove my fingers as far as they can go until my knuckles stop me from going deeper. My body ignites in an array of fireworks and sweat. I’m rocking against my hand, hoping the friction will prolong the sensation.
“The death of me,” he whispers before grunting my name, “Mary!” And hot streams of cream land on my stomach. I don’t know what to expect, but I don’t expect so much. I gasp when a sixth line coats me, landing on my inner thigh.
I don’t know what’s gotten into me, but he said he wanted a taste. I sit up, get to my knees, swipe his cum off my stomach with one hand, and at the same time, shove one hand in his mouth and the other in mine.
His salty seed slides down my throat, and Knives grips my wrist in a tight lock with his fingers, keeping my fingers in his mouth for as long as he can. He sucks and licks, moaning when he tastes me. He makes me sound like a five-star meal, a gourmet dish he can never get enough of.
I fall backward, exhausted, and high. I never thought it could be like that, sex without the sex. Well, was this sex? I don’t know. Foreplay might be a better word for it, but it was better than anything I’ve ever experienced.
“Holy shit,” he huffs, falling to his side.
We chuckle at the same time as we notice how hard we are breathing. He turns my head and traces my jaw as he stares at me with…I don’t know… adoration?
“You’re pretty fucking amazing, you know that? I’ve never experienced that. I usually…” he stops himself, and I roll over, tucking my hands under my cheek, and I stare at the tattoo on his chest.
“I know you’ve been with plenty of other women, Knives. You don’t have to stop yourself with me. You aren’t going to insult me or anything. Just because I don’t have much to compare it to doesn’t mean you don’t. I know that. You probably are used to just having sex and—” I’m about to launch into why I didn’t want to compare, but he kisses me, it’s quick with no tongue, but his lips are soft and passionate against mine.
“You’re right. I am used to it. I’m used to fucking whoever I want, whenever I want. I bend them over and get down to business, but there is
no comparison, Mary. What we just did, it’s number one for me.”
“Yeah?” I ask, not wanting to sound so damn hopeful, but I can’t help it. The way the annoyance for Knives morphed makes me hope.
“Yeah, Hellraiser.” He wipes my stomach off with the edge of the blanket, then folds it, tucking it under the sheet, so we don’t roll in wet goop. “Come on, let’s get some sleep, and tomorrow we can see if we can get home.” He kisses the top of my shoulder before pulling the blanket up.
I expect us to roll over and go to bed, but Knives surprises me again by yanking me against his chest and spooning me. His chin is on my shoulder, and his leg is thrown over mine.
He likes to cuddle!
I bite my lip to stop the squeal of excitement. It’s right there, bubbling in my throat, needing to be released. I swallow it down and let the beat of his heart against my shoulder lull me to sleep. The fire has died down, just a few crackles and pops every now and then, but I’m warm since Knives is against me.
Right as I’m about to be dead to the world, a hand falls over my mouth. I snap my eyes open, and it’s Knives. He lays a finger against his lips, brows drawn in concern as we remain as quiet as possible. The barn door opens up, and two masculine voices are arguing.
“No, I don’t know, okay? You have to let Natalia go. I’ll give you money. I want my niece back.”
“Not until I get what I want!”
“I don’t know where your daughter is, Mr. St. James. I swear, but I want Natalia. I did what you asked last time—”
I grip onto Knives as hard as I can, knowing I’m leaving bruises, but it’s the only thing stopping me from screaming when I hear my dad’s voice. What the hell is he doing here?
“And look how well that turned out. You’re useless.”
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Knives covers me with his body, just like he did when he thought the tornado was about to take us, and when the barn door slams shut, he lifts his head. “Are you okay?”