“I need to check your gear.” My hands go to the straps on her vest, tightening and adjusting them.
“I can do it myself.” She tries to shrug me off.
“Don’t fucking move.” I lean into her ear. “Unless you want me to bend you over this bench and remind you who you belong to in front of all these men. But you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
She stills under my touch. I finish with the vest, then slide my hands lower, spreading her knees just enough to reach the knife strapped there. I pull it free; the blade catches a thin slice of light.
“You stay close to me.” I press the flat of the knife against her inner thigh. “Always.”
Her breath stutters.
“Do you understand me,?Arlo?”
“Yes.”
“Good?girl.”
I sheath the knife, fingers trailing the inside of her leg before curling around her waist and pulling her onto my lap.
“What the hell are you doing?” she hisses.
“Clearing my head.”
I breathe her in. Gunpowder. Sweat. That sweetness that only clings to her. That only exists for me. The noise in my skull starts to fade, dulled by the beat of her heart thudding against my arm.
But it’s not enough.
My hand drags down her stomach and finds her heat through the rough fabric of her pants, and I squeeze. She makes a small, choked sound.Fucking perfect.
“What did I tell you about moving, kitten?”
Her head whips around, her eyes flashing with rage. “Get your fucking hands off me.”
“Make me.”
I press my thumb harder against her clit, the fabric growing damp beneath my touch. Her body betrays her, always. It’s the only truth I can count on in this world of lies and deceit.
Fucking hell. I draw in another breath of her. This is my peace. My sanity. My sickness. My salvation. A perfect, broken paradox holding what’s left of me together.
I press a kiss to her neck, slowly dragging my tongue across bruised skin. Her ass grinds against me, unintentional, but it doesn’t matter. My cock throbs behind the zipper.
I tug her pants down just enough to expose her ass to me. One hand wraps around her waist, keeping her tight against my chest, the other slides my zipper down. Ignoring her pathetic attempts to struggle. I bite the back of her neck, making her yelp.
I keep her pinned, letting the head of my cock drag against the tight pucker of her ass.
“Please not here. Please.”
I don’t answer. I just thrust, my cock gliding between her ass cheeks. Not inside. Just using her. For friction. For heat. For something to cover in my cum.
To lose myself in.
“What’s wrong, kitten? Don’t like being used like a cheap fucking fleshlight? Thought you liked playing my toy.” I grind harder. “Make a sound, and every man in this truck will know exactly what you are. What you let me do to you.”
I need this. The way her body trembles against mine. The static is fading. The pressure behind my eyes is easing. She’s my fucking fix.
“Imagine how they would look at you when we get out of this truck. They would see the cum stains on your pants. They would smell me on you. They’ll know who you belong to.”
“Priest…”
