Free Wolfe by Cari Silverwood Page B

of my forearm. Then I gave my cock a few languid strokes.
    Not to be fucked? Was I sure of that?
    Everything I’d brought with me made a long row on the grassed area. A whippy branch plucked smooth. The strut. The belt, laid out like a dead snake. A dozen bulldog clamps from a stack of folders the woman had piled in the back seat.
    Should I be doing this? The question lay before me, accusing. I shouldn’t.
    My head filled with such a dire craving. No man could deny his nature.
    I closed my eyes then opened them on a sight that swept away sense – Kiara, bound to the huge beam above her, that spanned from one wall of the saw mill to the next. Below her, the block. There was no saw. I’d made that up. An ancient, rusty saw seethed of threat, of teeth, of cutting, of blood spilled and agony. The knife was the bent-over end of a shiny tent peg that was tied to a baseball bat. The woman with the BMW must’ve had kids. I’d wedged the thick end of the bat into a slot in the middle of the block.
    I went to her and took away the baseball bat. I put my hand on her hip, marveling at how perfect she was. How well she writhed at the scrape of my nails as I circled her.
    Moonlight cascaded down her body, lighting her up in coruscations of startling red and pink and blue. I tasted her sweat, took a mouthful of the flesh at her hip and bit, then another of her ass. I painted her with her own orgasmic cum, fed her some on my fingers, and whispered sweet threats as I fastened some of the clamps. I listened to her cute whimpers. Then I whipped her again with my arsenal and watched the rise of the colors in the air around her. They worshipped her as I did. The flecks and motes caressed her until she became a goddess of pain, a dancer, a supplicant who begged me to stop making her twitch and writhe, to stop her coming.
    Her scent overrode all.
    I lapped her sweat and bit her feet, tasting the grit mixed with faint traces of her blood. I delved into her cunt with fingers and implements, relishing the wet sounds as I fucked her with them. My cock throbbed when she screamed for me to stop, and it throbbed when she begged me to never stop.
    The scenery spun around the female.
    I slashed the ropes and let her down and she lay over the block, belly down and gasping. Her cunt lay open to me, swollen and ready. I pulled her down to the grass, arranged her ass, spread her wide. And I dragged her onto my cock, feeling her cunt strain to take me. I fucked her while the moon laughed. I lay over her and pulled out, then prodded her other hole with my cunt-moistened dick until it too, slowly, let me in.
    My cock sank into her until all of it was swallowed and inside her asshole. When she scrambled to rise on hands and knees and crawl away, I growled. Then, I began to fuck her properly.

Chapter 11
    Kiara
     
    My mind was full of fucking sounds and my ass was full of cock.
    This should’ve bothered me. I knew that. Yesterday, I’d been a nurse, a carer, a person to respect. Now...
    He withdrew completely, then fed himself into my ass again and I lost track of logic as he forged deeper. That appreciation for being taken how and where he wanted to, rippled into me, pushing up the volume, plugging into whatever place in me arranged for orgasms.
    He’d given me fire and pleasure and more pain until I was a jigsaw person shattered into a million pieces.
    I tried to crawl from him, instinctively, in self-preservation. His cock had pulled all of an inch out of me when he growled a warning. I shuddered to a stop. Body aching, stinging, flaring with pain in places uncountable, I stuck my ass out for more.
    Wolfe gave it.
    He hauled back my hair, gripped the front of my throat in his other hand, and fucked me.
    Grass scored my knees, my palms. Then he twisted my hair and pulled my head back until I knew he was meeting my eyes.
    “Look at me.” The words sounded rough enough to scrape his throat raw.
    I opened my eyes, for the first time in what seemed hours.