by Lucy Watt
She closed her eyes tight and tried to deal with the exquisite pain, while he ran his tongue over the tiny bite marks, soothing and arousing them. They were so sensitive and his tongue drove her insane. He ran his mouth back up her body and his lips played over her ear lobe, his breath sending shivers up every limb. His fingers kneaded her aching nipples.
‘Touch me,’ she whispered.
‘Where?’
‘Between my legs.’
‘Say please,’ he murmured back, kissing her neck with his lips and teeth. His swollen cock, beneath his jeans, rubbed into her hip and she ached for him to ram it inside her.
She swallowed quickly and closed her eyes while she answered. ‘Please.’ Her voice was raspy. Between her legs she was wet. Dripping wet. Her clit pounded greedily. She clenched her muscles tightly to try to relieve the ache in them. With her hands still firmly shackled behind her back, she was completely at his mercy. ‘Undo my jeans.’
He slowly unbuckled her belt and she heard her zipper splitting. His hands slid over her silk panties and traced either side of her opening. A finger hovered over her clit. His hand was so close to where she wanted it to be but not close enough.
‘On my skin,’ she panted. ‘Under my pants.’
His thumb lifted the opening of her pants around the top of her leg and his finger pressed lightly on her clit, in exactly the right spot and teased her softly. His teeth sunk into her neck, sending shivers up her entire body. ‘Harder,’ she growled. ‘Brett. I need to come.’
‘Don’t you like being teased?’
‘No.’
‘Nor do I.’ He pulled his hand out of her jeans and then he began zipping her up.
With her hands still shackled behind her back, Sophie stood helplessly as he slowly buttoned her shirt back up. He stood back and watched her intently, the battling emotions on her face – desperation, embarrassment, anger – and remained silent.
‘You absolute bastard,’ she steamed and pulled at the hobbles around her wrists. She called him a few more choice names.
He put his arms around her waist and she felt the heat from his body, making her want him even more. He kissed her, with strong hungry lips, his tongue running seductively around her mouth and pulling softly at her lower lip. ‘Don’t ever forget it,’ he said quietly, as he unbuckled the hobbles around her wrists.
That was it? He was going to leave her high and dry – well, totally wet – like this? She couldn’t believe it. But then she couldn’t believe anything this guy did. He was like no one she had ever met.
She wanted to kill him.
Slowly.
Inch by deliciously dirty inch …
CHAPTER THREE
Sophie raised a hand to punch him and he caught it before it connected.
‘Don’t.’ Brett glared at her and for a brief moment she completely believed he was capable of really hurting her. His free hand took her by the hair and forced her to the floor of the truck, her knees hitting the wooden floor boards. Then he unbuckled his jeans.
‘Open your mouth.’
He was rock hard and a throbbing pulse raced up his shaft as it stood hard up against his flat stomach. His head was swollen purple. She opened her mouth and he ran his silky smooth head around her lips, lacing it with the small drop of pre-come. ‘Say please,’ he ordered.
‘Please,’ she whispered.
‘What?’
‘Please,’ she begged a little louder. ‘Let me suck you.’
‘Put out your tongue.’
She held out her tongue and he ran the tip of his cock over it. She licked the length of him and circled her tongue around his head, loving the taste and feel, then drew him into her mouth, sucking and making her way down the length of his shaft as far as she could go while working him with her tongue. His hips rocked into her and his fingers ran through her hair, pushing it back off her face. She sucked hard and let her mouth slide back up until she could lick his head again.
She brought her hand to him, closed her eyes and got lost with it; running her lips down and over him again, up and down his pole, while her hand followed. He held her head in his hands and fucked her mouth slowly at first and then hit a rhythm, pumping into her until she could hardly breathe. She felt his balls tighten and harden, churn with come until he shuddered violently and came in long hot spurts, groaning loudly. She felt it shoot up the shaft of his cock in surges. He burst over her neck and throat and between her breasts and it burned against her skin.
He slumped forward and rested his face on the small chestnut horse that stood over them. Sweat ran down his torso and dropped from the side of his temples.
For some reason, staring up at him, from her knees, seeing him look so spent made her feel powerful. She grinned and ran the point of her tongue over the sensitive tip of his cock and he convulsed and gasped, pulling himself away from her grasp.
He looked down at her. ‘Fuck.’ His voice was ragged and his breath unsteady. He took in a deep breath and exhaled. He pulled her up and took her in his arms, kissing her deeply, his breath roaring into her mouth; and for a moment she believed he might even have a heart. She ran her hands over his beautiful face and kissed him back, loving the feeling of his arms around her. This man she knew nothing about, except that he was a sadistic prick with a big hungry cock. She wanted to straddle him now.
He pushed a strand of hair off her face and tucked it behind her ear, in a gesture that was surprisingly gentle. ‘We’re going to be late.’
‘I don’t care,’ she said.
‘I do,’ he said.
‘But …’
‘What?’
‘What about me?’ She ran her lips over his neck and inhaled his scent. ‘I need to come so badly.’ He couldn’t end this now. Not yet.
Yes he could, it seemed. He dropped his arms from around her and did up his jeans. ‘We’ve got two more horses to load.’ He skipped down the ramp of the truck.
She stood in the back of the truck and stared down the front of her shirt, incredulous. The dirty bastard had just shot all over her. And she’d begged for it. How did that happen?
Sophie took one of the clean towels from the truck cupboards and wiped the pearly mess off her throat and chest, glad there was no presidential-style evidence left on her shirt.
Brett appeared on the ramp of the truck with a bay horse, handed her its rope and disappeared to get the other one. He loaded that one too, closed a steel rail alongside it and jumped to the ground while she stood there, not knowing what to do or how to feel.
He stood with his finger on the winch button, waiting for her.
She walked to the narrow doorway and glared down the ramp at him. But it was as though he had flicked a switch and just turned everything off. His face was passive. His mind seemed on the job of loading horses. But she was anything but switched off. She was so turned on it wasn’t funny. She was burning so hot it would take the entire rural fire brigade to put her out. Or just one of him. Was he kidding?
He looked at her impatiently and began raising the ramp. The winch whirred and the steel cable went taut. No, it seemed, he was not kidding.
She stomped down the ramp and stormed to the cabin of the truck. ‘You are the most conceited arsehole I ever met,’ she said as she hoisted herself into the driver’s side.
‘You’re not exactly Mary Poppins,’ he replied. He had followed her. Now he stood looking up at her. He reached to the ignition and pulled the keys out from below the steering wheel.
‘What are you doing?’ she demanded.
‘Move over.’
She folded her arms across her chest. ‘I don’t do that submissive little woman shit. I’m driving.’ She held out her hands for the keys.
He checked his watch and his face went dark as he took in the stubbornness on her face. ‘I need sharper rowels,’ he grunted and grudgingly handed her the keys. She snatched them and he walked around the front of the truck and opened the passenger side door.
‘You owe me an org
asm,’ she said as he climbed in. She started the engine, turned the big wheel and the truck rolled out the driveway and headed towards Bangaloo Creek.
‘You had your chance last night.’
Sophie turned and stared at him while the truck rumbled along the road under her guiding hand. ‘Seriously?’
He nodded.
‘Are you sulking?’
He didn’t answer.
‘You’re sulking because I wouldn’t let you drive.’ For about the tenth time in 24 hours, she couldn’t believe him.
She continued driving for another half an hour, silently seething. Brett rested a foot on the dashboard and watched the scenery roll by out the window. His wrist rested casually on his knee, giving no clue as to what he was thinking.
‘You quite alright?’
He turned to her. ‘What?’
‘Are you right?’ she repeated. ‘Are you good? Satisfied? All fixed up?’
He nodded. ‘That was great.’
Great? That was the most seriously wicked blow job she had ever given. It was better than great. It was hot, smoking, horny as a bitch. Great?
She hit the brakes, so hard she felt the horses all stumble in the back.
‘What are you doing?’ he asked, sounding annoyed.
She steered the truck off to the side of the road and parked it under and a row of gum trees. Then she reached for her belt and began unbuckling. With her zip undone, she lifted her hips and pulled her pants down over her hips. ‘Taking care of myself,’ she answered. ‘Seeing you’re too fucking selfish.’
She pushed her jeans all the way down to her ankles, shifted around and lay across the bench seat, resting her head in his lap. She caught his bemused stare before she shut her eyes and let her knees drop open.
‘Shut up, I need to concentrate,’ she said, sliding her hand down into her silk pants. Her crotch was so wet it was ridiculous. When she slid her finger over her clit it was so slippery she could hardly get any friction going. She found her spot and circled angrily, trying to repeat what he had done yesterday.
And then he coughed.
Her eyes flew open. ‘Do you mind?’
He held up his hands. ‘Sorry.’
She closed her eyes and began circling again. Just as it was beginning to feel good, he spoke again. ‘Been a while since I apologised to anyone,’ he muttered.
‘That’s because you’re an arrogant prick. Now, would you shut up?’
‘Sorry.’
She closed her eyes and began again, finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate.
‘I said it again.’
‘What?’ she snapped.
‘Sorry. I said sorry.’ He seemed astounded.
She sat up and glared at him. ‘Brett. You never speak to anyone. Not even a grunt. Why are you annoying the piss out of me now?’
He shrugged. ‘I’ve just never seen a girl do that before.’ He looked down at her hand, which was still inside her pants. ‘Not in the cabin of a truck on the side of the highway. What if someone drives past?’
‘Mate, I haven’t seen half the shit you do either. You’re a complete sicko. I’m just a girl whose been teased to the brink of orgasm, who is trying to get her damn rocks off!’
He looked at his watch again. ‘We’re going to be late.’
Clearly he had punctuality issues. ‘Whose fault is that?’
‘Yours,’ he said, without taking his eyes off her crotch.
She flung her head back, exasperated, and continued rubbing herself. ‘I’m not leaving until I climax.’ He didn’t speak for a while so she closed her eyes and tried to shut out the world. She ran her fingers up and down the sides of her clit.
‘Want some help?’
‘No.’
She ran her hands up and over her breast and squeezed her nipples between her fingers. They were still sore from his cruel teeth and she inhaled sharply when she pinched them.
‘This is going to take all day.’
‘Why don’t you shut the hell up then?’ she hissed.
She ran her hands around her neck and found something sticky. ‘Your come is on my neck,’ she said accusingly. Then she ran her finger around in it a while and then put her hands back down her pants.
‘Don’t get pregnant,’ he said.
‘What?’ she snapped.
‘My sperm is on your fingers and you’re shoving them inside your vagina.’
‘I’ve had a depo shot.’
‘It’s still not safe sex.’
‘You have got to be kidding.’ She sat up and began pulling her pants back up. ‘Who are you to get all sanctimonious? You are the most self-centred bastard I have ever met in my life,’ she said through gritted teeth.
‘How is that self-centred?’
‘You’re purposely trying to distract me.’
‘I’m not. I’m being considerate.’
‘I give up. You’re impossible.’ She sat up and began wrenching her pants back up. A road train roared past and the driver honked. Brett gave him a thumbs up.
Sophie rolled her eyeballs.
‘I think you should give me the keys,’ he said. ‘You’re in no state to drive.’
‘Argh!’ She ripped them from the ignition and threw them at him.
He held up a defensive arm and they ricocheted off the window and clattered to the floor. He stooped to pick them up and then clambered over the top of her. She was forced to feel the heat from his body one more time. She was sure he rubbed his crotch in her face on purpose.
He took the wheel and fired up the truck. ‘We are so late,’ he said.
CHAPTER FOUR
They drove for an hour in silence. Sophie stared out the window with tight lips and folded arms, watching the endless flat paddocks roll by. She pointed to the cut timber archway over the gateway of Bangaloo Creek Station as it came into view. ‘On the left,’ she grumbled.
The entire crew were waiting for them, unable to yard up the cattle without the horses.
‘She got us lost,’ Brett said, jerking his thumb at her when they jumped from the truck.
‘Yeah right,’ smirked Mick. The two cow-hands grinned stupidly and she could have slapped them both. She had been driving out here once a week for the past two years. The two properties were on the same road. Not much chance of getting lost along the way.
Brett moved to the side of the truck and began lowering the ramp. She noticed Mick and his side-kicks staring at the front of her shirt.
‘What?’ she demanded.
Mick pointed to her collar. ‘Your shirt,’ he said in an amused voice. ‘It’s buttoned up all wrong.’ He walked off with his two little shadows sniggering behind him.
She looked down in horror. Fucking Brett! He’d as good as hung a sign on her to tell all the boys that they’d been shagging. Which they hadn’t. Well, not quite.
She stormed around to the side of the truck just as the ramp hit the ground and Brett scrambled up into the back. She marched up after him. ‘You did that on purpose,’ she hissed at him. ‘You skewed my buttons.’
‘Look out,’ he said, as he unpinned the divider and led the first gelding out. The horse nearly bowled her over as it tried to turn around inside the truck.
‘I hate you,’ she yelled after him, not giving a damn whether anyone heard her or not.
Outside, Jim was in a flap. ‘About time you got here. We were about to send out a search party.’ He scrambled up the truck ramp and began helping to unload the horses.
Sophie immediately put her back to him and began untying the next horse, so he couldn’t see the mess her shirt was in.
‘One of the horses travelled badly,’ she lied, although she didn’t know why she bothered. Someone, without a doubt, would tell him about her shirt later in the day. She passed the rope to Jim without turning around.
‘I want you and Brett to check the water points. Ride one, lead one. Swap halfway. Show him the entire property – the gates, bores, troughs, holding yards, everything. We’
ll work the other two horses in the pens.’
‘Okay.’
Jim took the gelding and led it down the ramp and she quickly fixed up her shirt. She untied the next horse and passed it to Brett, who took it out and handed it to one of the waiting Bangaloo boys.
Sophie got the horses saddled and kept the touchiest one for herself. Iceman, she called the big black gelding, because he had a cold back and bucked like a demon. He was a rough-looking horse, with his mane half scratched out from itch and a dunny brush for a tail, but she loved the spirit in him.
As she girthed him tight, she noticed his back hump and his tail clamp down tight between his back legs. She grinned. This would be fun.
‘Get on him in the yard,’ said Jim, leading the chestnut past. He knew what the black horse was capable of. And she was glad that he also knew what she was capable of. He never treated her like a girl, which she appreciated. ‘Better put a helmet on,’ he added.
She took one from the dog boxes under the truck and jammed it on her head. By the time she got to the yard, most of the hands were resting a foot on the rail, waiting. Iceman was always a crowd puller. She noticed Brett glance over his shoulder.
One of the hands closed the gate after her. She threw the reins over Iceman’s neck and brought his nose to his ribs. Without hesitating, she stuck her boot in the stirrup and swung her leg over. Iceman stood like a statue while she found her other stirrup. His back, as tight as a drum, arched up under her. He felt like a bomb that was about to go off. She took a deep breath and prepared to release his head. As soon as she did, she knew it would be on.
She turned his head. Iceman snatched the reins, stuck his head between his knees and honked like a donkey. He exploded into a furious bucking frenzy, with all four legs off the ground, landing on his fronts and then switching to his hinds before lurching into the air and kicking his legs out behind her head somewhere. Sophie sat deep in the saddle and rode every buck.
‘Stick him, Soph,’ Jim called out. She heard the smile in his voice.
There was much hooting and hollering and Sophie revelled in it, riding until the big horse smoothed out and cantered around the ring with only the occasional skip of his hind legs.