Free Loving the Beast by Skye Warren

doll, making her hug the tree. He undid her jeans and yanked them down to her knees, using them like a rope, tying her still. And he shoved her shirt and bra up, exposing her skin to the air and the tree.
    “Like that,” he said, a hardness in his voice she didn’t understand. “You stay just like that no matter what I do to you. And when I’m done, your breasts will be red and raw, and I won’t even have touched them. Understand?”
    She whimpered, aroused and nervous and somehow floating. It was freeing for him to speak to her this way, for him to hurt her like this. It was freeing not to know what would happen next.
    What happened next was a blunt finger pressing inside her pussy from behind. She gasped, her mouth open against the tree.
    “Wet,” he murmured. “Are you always this wet? Do you walk around all day during class or work with your pussy slick as a waterfall? Or is that just for me, every fucking time?”
    She shuddered. “For you,” she said, her voice high and thin. “It’s for you.”
    Then his fingers were at her mouth. “Taste yourself,” he demanded.
    Before she had a chance to respond, to even think about saying no, he pushed inside. She sucked on his fingers obediently, licking her juices off his coarse skin. When he was satisfied, he removed his hand. Then his heat was at her back, his cock nudging her entrance.
    “You want me to scare you,” he whispered. “That way you can walk away tomorrow for what happened today.”
    Dark realization washed over her. He thought she was doing this because she wanted out. He thought she was using his sexuality—his pain—against him. “No,” she cried.
    “Yes,” he gritted out, thrust inside her. The fullness shocked her, and she lifted up on her toes, trying to escape. Her breasts shoved against the bark of the tree, making her whimper. There was no escape, only invasion, only pain. Only the knowledge that he was finally letting her in.
    “Blake. Blake. ”
    “I shouldn’t touch you when you’re like this, when it’s going to be the last fucking time, but I can’t help it. You pushed me and pushed me, and now you’re getting it. How does it feel, baby? How does the bark feel on your skin? How does my dick feel in your cunt?” As if to punctuate his words, he slipped his hand around and pinched her clit—hard. “This is what I want to do to you, all the fucking time. This is how it would be if I didn’t hold back. Fucking you, using you, tearing you up.”
    He pulled back and thrust inside, and she couldn’t deny that she was being fucked and used. It even felt like being torn, rent into two parts from the inside, his cock so deep and thick inside her.
    “I never want this to end,” she gasped.
    “You will,” he promised.
    And then he sped up, moving quickly as he thrust, his cock pulling far out only to slam back inside, her breasts bouncing against the rough curve of the tree, her cries echoing around the clearing and over the city.
    “Tell me what she said to you,” he gritted out. “Tell me why you’re hurting.”
    And it hurt more than the bark, more than his cock, to answer him. “She said I wasn’t good enough for you. That I was trash. That I would always be trash.”
    “Fuck,” he growled, sounding savage. Like he could rip her apart. “That’s not fucking true.”
    “I know,” she sobbed, but she didn’t know, not really. And it was hard to talk with him still fucking her, not as fast as before, but still enough that each word rode on a breath, choppy and short. Because as hard as it was to talk like this, it was the only way she could talk. “But I thought… I didn’t know… God, we’re so different, Blake.”
    Another growl, this one wordless and animalistic. “That’s where you’re wrong. We’re the same, you and me. I’ll fucking make us the same.”
    It seemed impossible that it could work, that he could somehow fuck them into the same person. But that was how it felt, his cock impaling her,