Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 40901 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 205(@200wpm)___ 164(@250wpm)___ 136(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40901 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 205(@200wpm)___ 164(@250wpm)___ 136(@300wpm)
“God, you’re fucking beautiful,” he curses as I lower my head all the way to his stomach, as far as the bars will let me, swallowing him deep before drawing back. Yes, I know how to make a man moan. I know how to make him weak with pleasure. I know how to manipulate him when he is drunk with lust.
My lips linger at the very tip of his rock-hard member, my lower lip toying with the underside of his flared head. It’s the little things that matter. The tiniest of pleasures that coalesce to create a climax.
He is holding onto the bars now, his big, scarred hands gripping tightly as his hips surge forward. I taste his precum, the fluid his straining balls are using to prepare his seed for their ill-fated passage to my mouth.
“Such a good little angel,” he praises as I get to work, bobbing my head back and forth along the length of his cock. His praise is not genuine, not entirely. There are remnants of something like mockery in it. Yesterday we were sworn enemies, and today we remain the same; even in this moment of apparent softness a game is being played.
I am going to make him come, so he knows I can make him come. He is going to come in my mouth because that is what his brand of simple Western masculinity thinks will put me in my place. Only a fool would imagine giving up seed to be an act of domination.
He lets go of the bars, reaches into the cage, and takes hold of the back of my head. That was unexpected. He proceeds to take the job of sucking his cock away from me, and instead begins to use my mouth as fuck receptacle, thrusting in and out of my lips with the powerfully rough strokes of a man who finds himself on the verge of climax and wants to milk every bit of pleasure from it.
I have become a thing to be used. I have been transformed into his possession, a kneeling supplicant worshipping his cock. After a brief flash of outrage, I feel the heat I felt transform to something else. Arousal. It seems that everything Sheriff Starlight does to me is somehow convertible to sexual energy.
He lets out a shout of orgasm. It is not a cue I need, because at that same moment his cock is shoved to the back of my mouth, my face drawn hard against his crotch, and his cum is being pumped down my throat. Spit or swallow is not a choice. He is making me take his essence inside me.
I drink his seed down because I have to, swallowing until he releases me and looks down at me with an expression of rough pride. “That mouth of yours does have a worthwhile use after all,” he comments.
He’s trying to get a rise out of me, or he’s trying to humiliate me. But all I feel is that heat that starts in my cheeks being metabolized into wet need between my thighs. This man is not the man he was. He’s much more ruthless, and he is a lot fucking hotter.
“Let’s see how the rest of you is to use.”
Sheriff Starlight throws the door of my cage open and pulls me out by my hair. He puts me up over the bed, bent over the edge, and wastes no time in pushing his cock between my thighs. He just came, but he shows no signs of softening. I feel my pussy stretch for him, my wet inner walls submitting to his harsh invasion.
He gathers my hair in both his hands, using the golden skein of my scalp like a handle with which to fuck me. The room is full of the sound of his hips slapping against my ass, his cock entering my cunt time and time again.
All I can do is lie there and be fucked. I feel my juices trickling down the inside of my thighs. There can be no pretending I don’t want this, just as there can be no pretending it matters if I do or not. Starlight has me in captivity, and he is going to use me as he sees fit. Last night, I attempted to control him, to seduce him. Today, he is showing me that I get fucked on his schedule, not mine.
Having already come once, he is in less of a hurry than before. He takes his time, but he does not go slow. He gives me a thoroughly stern fucking, the sort of pounding only the worst behaved girls will ever experience.
“You’ve been on the run from me for a long time,” he tells me, slowing slightly to give himself the chance to breathe. He does not stop fucking me as he talks, he just keeps stroking in and out. “I always knew I’d have you, Katie. Sooner or later I’d own you. You gave yourself to me in Vegas and then ran away, thinking I was just some bounty hunter. But you were wrong, and now that this ass is mine, I intend to keep it. Forever.”