by Parker Grey
I pull my mouth away from her, slide my fingers out of her ass, and stand. Emmy looks back at me, begging me with her eyes, and I unbuckle my belt, undo my jeans. My cock springs out, hard as a rock, swollen and nearly purple.
"Please," Emmy whispers, so quietly I can barely hear it.
I tease her for a second, holding the head against her cleft and sliding it down, slowly, past her sensitive bud. I slide it between her lips without entering her, even as she exhales hard and tries to push back against me. I massage it against her clit and she bites her lip, and then I can't take it anymore.
With one stroke, I sink myself all the way into Emmy's sweet, wet, waiting pussy and we both grunt out loud. She feels so fucking good and perfect, and I've been denying myself this for so long that I nearly come inside her right then and there, but I force myself not to.
"Colton," she whispers, the word barely audible even in the quiet shed.
I mean to fuck her slow, make sure she feels every inch of me, but I can't help myself and before I know it, I'm driving myself into Emmy as hard as I can. The wooden work table is shaking with the force of it, her hands balled into fists, her pussy clenching around me.
I have to stop when I almost come, and I grab her hair, trying to get control of myself. She arches her back and her muscles squeeze me, but I don't want to come. Not yet, and I pause inside her, my whole cock buried balls-deep.
I lean over and open a drawer. I know the guy who does the leather repairs keeps a tub of vaseline in here because leather working will dry out your hands, and after a few tries, I find it. I open it, looking down at Emmy, and I slowly pull my cock out and push it in again, making sure I hit that perfect pleasure spot that makes her eyes roll back in her head.
She sighs. I dip two fingers into the vaseline and circle them around her tight back hole as she holds her breath, trying not to make a sound, but as I slide two fingers in she whimpers quietly.
Fuck, she's tight, especially with my thick cock in her pussy, still fucking her slow but as soon as my fingers are all the way in, sunk to the third knuckle, Emmy bucks against the remains of her restraints, her muscles tightening as she comes yet again. I almost come too.
Then she swallows hard, her eyes closed, face against the wood, body going totally slack as I'm still hard inside her.
Emmy licks her lips, breathing hard.
"Colton," she whispers. "Either come inside me or fuck my ass, please."
And now I can't help myself any longer.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Emmeline
I can't believe I just said that. Sure, deep down I know that we've been fucking a lot and this isn't even the first time I've begged him to take my ass, but every time I'm surprised that I could say something that dirty.
I guess there's something about Colton's pure, raw, animal sexuality that makes me lose control like this.
He pulls out, my last orgasm still wracking through my body. I feel like I can't possibly stand for much longer, like my legs might give out, but I turn my head. He's stroking his long, thick cock like he's spreading something on it, watching me hungrily, the fire of lust in his eyes burning brighter than I've ever seen before.
I arch my back, offering myself, holding my breath because I think this is it. This is the moment that all of me becomes his, claimed, marked.
Colton rests the head of his cock against my tight, puckered hole, one hand on my hips, and then he pushes.
I resist him. I don't mean to, but it's natural, even as I can feel him sliding inside, his cock stretching and widening me, while just the tip finds its way in.
Then his hand is sliding up my back, his fingers going notch by notch on my spine as he eases himself inside.
"Relax, darlin'," he whispers.
I take a deep breath and then relax my whole body, sagging, and Colton pushes in further. It's a strange, weird sensation, being stretched and about to be filled, but it's not bad. I feel like every nerve ending in my body is on high alert, strung together and electrified.
I stretch and stretch, utterly unable to move, and just when I'm positive that he has to stop, that it's going to hurt, I feel the ridge of his head pop through the ring of muscle and he stops. He strokes my back, and I breathe deep.
He's in my ass, I think. Finally.
"You like that, you dirty girl?" he asks, even his whisper deep and rough. "You like having my cock in your ass?"
I just nod, my cheek scraping against rough wood. I know he's giving me a moment to get used to it, but already I need him, hard and fast and rough, right here.
"More," I whisper.
"That's my girl," he whispers, and wraps one hand around my shoulder.
Slowly, he slides himself in. I can almost feel him shaking with restraint, because I know what he wants — Colton wants to fuck me hard until I moan his name and come my brains out, but we can't do that right now.
Despite himself, he's being gentle. For now, anyway.
Every millimeter brings new sensations, and it feels strange and incredible, pleasurable in a way I didn't even know existed — not to mention completely and utterly filthy. This isn't what nice girls do, and I know that, but I also left nice girl behind a long time ago, somewhere around the first time I begged Colton to come inside me so I could feel it.
He keeps going, filling me beyond my imagination, and my whole body is buzzing with the strange, forbidden pleasure. Colton's breathing hard, and I can feel his cock twitching inside me in a way that I know means he's doing his best not to come yet.
Finally, I feel his hips against my ass, and he pauses.
Holy shit, Colton's completely in my ass, I think.
I nearly come from the thought alone. His weight behind me shifts as he leans over, moving in me. I bite my lip and ball my hands into fists as his lips find my ear.
"You're mine," he whispers. "You're my sweet, filthy girl."
Then he curls one hand into my hair, kisses me on the cheek, and pulls back.
Colton goes slow, and he's gentle, even though every tiny movement he makes feels magnified by a hundred. Tied to the table with a huge cock in my ass I'm completely and utterly helpless, totally under his control — which is just how I want it.
I like it when he takes me, when he tells me I'm his, when he does things to me I'd never dreamed about. I like that he has access to every part of my body, that he can use me however he wants.
It's dirty. It's filthy. But it's good.
He keeps going slow, and I feel every millimeter of his monster — and it feels good. There are places inside me that I didn't know existed, places that feel incredible as he fucks me, keeping himself under tight control, gradually going faster.
I feel like I'm in the middle of an electrical storm or something, new and strange sensations washing over me. I think I'm moaning, just a little, but I'm also completely certain that there's no way Colton's going to stop — my father could burst in right now and he'd keep fucking me, slow and deep.
It's like there's a ball of lightning inside me, charged up and waiting to strike, and with every thrust it gets bigger and more dangerous until finally, I know it's going to explode. By now I'm whimpering, my teeth gritted together trying to keep the sound inside but I can't, I'm way too far gone.
"Colton," I gasp as he thrusts again, balls-deep. "Colton, I'm gonna come."
"Good," he growls.
I go over the edge, the electricity inside me bursting and crackling forth, running along my limbs to my fingers and toes. I force myself not to scream or shout, but it feels so good and so intense that I think I might pass out from the sheer sensation.
Just as I finish, I can feel Colton's cock jerk and then he explodes. He pumps himself into my ass again and again, and he doesn't stop fucking me with that same slow, hard motion until he's completely spent and I'm completely relaxed, practically boneless against this table.
Then, still inside me, Colton rests his forehead against the nape of my neck. I'm still wearing a shirt, but even t
hrough it I can feel him breathing hard as he kisses me there, tenderly.
It's the closest I've ever felt to anyone. The most intimate thing I've ever experienced, the most vulnerable. The dirtiest, for sure.
He reaches over and undoes the knots on my right wrist, then massages it a little. I turn my head, grab him by the hair, and kiss him hard. He kisses me back, long and slow, before undoing my other wrist, too.
We stand. I'm shaking, his arms around me, and then he finally pulls out and hands me a clean rag from the workbench. I use it, then pull my underwear and pants up and turn around.
Colton's already dressed again. I look at the rag and then at him, and he chuckles almost like he's embarrassed, running one hand through his hair.
"Just throw it away," he says. "They'll never notice a missing rag."
We kiss again. It's weird how he's so rough and demanding with sex, then so sweet and tender afterward. I thought men were supposed to run away, to not want anything to do with you, but Colton's not like that.
I guess I thought wrong.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Colton
I don't want to leave. I know it's just a shed, and it smells like horses and leather, but once I leave, the moment will be over forever and I want to savor it.
Emmy, giving me her ass. Trusting me — me — so much that she let me tie her up and fuck her there. I'm strangely grateful to her, and I feel closer to her now than I ever have, to anyone.
I think I might be in love with Emmy.
The thought stuns me motionless until she kisses me again, soft and tender and pleading, so I kiss her back. We kiss for a long time until I finally put our foreheads together and rub her nose against mine.
"We ought to go," I whisper.
"I know," she says. "I just don't want to."
"Me either," I say.
I take the rag and hide it at the bottom of a trash can, put the vaseline away, take Emmy's hand, and lead her to the door. I lift the bar and slide it open, the night almost as dark as the inside of the shed. There's no one around.
"Tomorrow night?" she whispers.
I nod.
"Tomorrow night," I say, smiling at her.
She squeezes my hand, then turns to go.
"Wait," I say, suddenly feeling urgent, like I have to do this right here, right now.
I kiss her one more time, quick but deep. Then I let her hand go.
In the dark, Emmy smiles at me.
Behind her, a light flicks on in the kitchen of the big house, and instantly, I feel like there's a lead weight in my stomach. Emmy frowns at me, then turns her head, following my gaze to the house.
"Oh," she says, very quietly.
We both pause, frozen.
"It's just the kitchen light, it's probably—"
The front door opens, and the screen door slams back so hard it hits the wall of the house, an angry silhouette coming out.
Emmy gasps. The silhouette has a shotgun, and without thinking I step in front of her.
"WHO THE HELL IS THAT?" her father shouts, barreling toward us angrily. "Who the hell touched my little gi—"
He stops, and I stand up to my full height.
"Colton," he says, more shock in his voice than anything.
I hook my thumbs into my belt. The gun makes me nervous as hell, but he doesn't own his daughter, she can do what she likes.
"Tom," I say, my voice surprisingly steady.
"Dad," Emmy says, one hand on my back, peeking around me.
"Go in the house," he growls at her.
"Dad, listen, I know—"
Tom pumps the shotgun once, his angry face seething.
"Go in the house," he says.
"No," she says. "He didn't do anything wrong."
"He just came out of the tack shed with my little girl and gave her one hell of a kiss," he says, glaring at me.
"Emmeline's a grown woman and she can make her own choices," I say, not moving at all.
He can shoot me. I'm not giving up Emmy.
"Dad, please, put the gun down," Emmy whispers, her voice breaking.
"You knew the rules!" he shouts.
He aims the gun to the side, at the ground, and fires. Emmy jumps about a mile, her hand still on my back.
"Get in the house," he says. "Or I swear to God Colton's kneecap is next."
"I'll be fine," I tell her, even though I have no idea if it's true. But right now, Tom's so angry that I wouldn't put anything past him — especially not shooting me.
She shakes her head, tears streaming down her face.
I try to smile at her.
"Come on, don't get me shot," I whisper. I try to sound teasing and lighthearted, but it doesn't quite work. "Go on, I'll see you later."
"I'm sorry," she whispers.
Then she leaves my side and walks for the house. Her father watches her until she's through the front door, and then he turns back to me.
"I ought to shoot you like a dog," he says, taking another step forward. "Is this what you do, you work for honest ranchers so you can defile their daughters?"
Only Emmy, I want to say but don't.
"That isn't what happened," I say, my hands still on my belt. I'm watching his finger on the trigger, my heart beating almost out of my chest, because I don't trust him not to shoot.
"Like hell it's not," he snarls. "Colton, you're fired. Now get your ass to your cabin, get your things, and get the hell off my ranch tonight."
I'm furious, so angry I'm seeing red. I have the wild urge to lunge for him, grab the gun, throw it away and beat his ass, but I don't. He's so on edge that I bet he'd shoot me before I got to him, and I'm gonna need a head if I'm ever going to see Emmy again.
I turn. I walk. Tom marches behind me all the way to my cabin, shotgun still cocked. He stands and watches as I pack a few basic things, then follows me to my truck while I get in and turn it on.
For a moment, I think about backing over him. I'm angry enough to do it, but the thought of Emmy's face stops me — even if he's an angry, unreasonable asshole, he's still her father and I couldn't break her heart like that, so I drive away instead.
As I leave the ranch, I can see the lights on in the big house, and suddenly, I'm filled with so much rage that I punch the steering wheel and shout wordlessly.
Fuck this. Fuck Tom, fuck his shotgun, fuck his idiot, backwards ideas about what his daughter can do. She's an adult, grown woman, and he's got no right to tell her what to do like this.
And yet? I'll do whatever it takes to get back to Emmy. I'll kneel and kiss her father's goddamn boots if I get to see my sweet dirty girl just one more time. She's become my world, and I'll do anything.
"I'm coming back for you, baby," I say, watching the ranch in my rear-view mirror. "I promise."
Chapter Twenty-Five
Emmeline
I'm crying as I rush into the house, and then stop short.
My mom is sitting at the kitchen table, her hands around a mug of tea, her face serious.
"Mom," I say, my words jumbled because I'm a mess. "Mom, Dad is being crazy, you have to go—"
"Emmeline, I'm not going anywhere," she sighs.
"He's got the shotgun!" I say, my voice bordering on hysterical.
"He's not gonna shoot Colton," she says with a steely calm. "And, frankly, Colton ought to have known the rules."
I swallow hard. My hands are shaking, but I have to try, I have to do something.
"It wasn't his fault, it was mine," I say. "I chased after him, he didn't want to—"
My mom shrugs.
"Sweetie, it doesn't matter," she says, somehow loving and firm all at once. "You can't just do what he did and expect to get away with it."
"But it wasn't—" I fumble, trying to find the right words. "It wasn't him, it was me, too."
"Oh, you're grounded," she says, still perfectly, completely calm. "You won't be speaking to a boy unsupervised for a long time."
My mouth drops open, and fury rushes
through my veins.
Is she fucking kidding me?
"I'm twenty-two," I say, honestly more baffled than anything. "You can't ground me."
She sighs.
"You're right," she says, leaning back in her chair. "Either you continue to live here and follow our rules, or you leave and you're on your own. We can't ground you. But we don't have to watch you ruin yourself, either."
I knew they were kind of old fashioned, but I honestly didn't know they felt like this. This is kind of insane and unhinged.
But at the same time, it's night. It's late. My dad has a shotgun, and even though I'm so angry I'm shaking and crying, I know what will and won't do any good right now.
"Okay," I say, forcing my voice to stop shaking. "All right, well, I guess I'm going to go to bed then. I think Dad's already said everything that he had to say to me."
She taps one finger against her mug.
"Your father is being a little unreasonable right now," she says, her tone softening. "Talk to him in the morning, he's just worried about you because he loves you."
Can't he be worried without a shotgun? I think, but I don't say it out loud.
"Right," I say, done arguing for tonight. "Good night, then."
I turn and rush up the stairs.
"Good night!" my mother calls behind me.
Then I close the door to my bedroom and pull out my computer. I don't have much: not much money, not much stuff, no job if I'm not working for my parents, but I can't stay here.
Outside, I hear an engine start, and I turn to the window.
It's Colton's truck, driving through the gates of the ranch. As I watch, my eyes fill with tears again, and I have to force myself to sit still instead of running downstairs, shouting take me with you. After all, my dad's still got a gun, and he's still pissed.
If I can just be calm and patient for a day, we can figure this out.
I just have to pray that Colton's not leaving for good.
Chapter Twenty-Six