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He unbuttoned it quickly, aggressively. He ripped it down his thick arms, displaying an array of muscles and toned definition. Before I knew it, there was nothing on but his cross and pleated pants. He’d even taken off his shoes like a wild man.
Fuck.
Six-pack abs pressed into his chiseled abdomen like a chocolate bar. A dark smattering of hair disappeared into his pants, his cock hard and tenting the gray material. He looked like a centerfold made just for women, and he threw his shirt down like a promise. Like he was preparing for a chase, and the devious grin on his face matched.
“What now, snowflake?” he asked, and I took a step only for him to match it. So much blood charged behind my ears, but that only excited me more.
I doubled back, heading off deeper into the woods, and I had to say, he let me go for a hot minute. I got so far into the woods before he brought me down again and underneath him.
And this time, he didn’t let me get away.
He used his entire powerful body to pin me tight, but that didn’t stop me from fighting. I lodged a punch toward his pretty face, and he got my knuckles in one hand.
“Ah, ah, ah. You fuck that up, you pay for that shit, sweetheart,” Thatcher crooned. Pinning my wrists to the ground, he drove his hard dick into my thigh. Instinct and adrenaline had me attempt to knee him again, but he was quick just like he’d been in the woods. He got the back of my knee. “Uh-uh, snow. You fuck that up? You really pay for that shit.”
He slipped his hand beneath my dress after he said that, cupping my sex, and I wriggled, burned.
He chuckled hoarsely in my ear. “Want me to make this pussy sing, snow?”
The prospect gathered sweat between my breasts, my thighs. Even still, I couldn’t let him win at this game we were playing. I rolled, or I at least tried to. All that got me was Thatcher using his body to lock mine tighter against the ground. Twigs stabbed my back as he forced the front of my dress down, and he exposed me when he eased one of my nipples out of my bra.
“Fuck.” He massaged my breast with his warm hand, then used two fingers to tweak my brown nipple. “Goddamn does this need a taste.”
I didn’t fight him because I couldn’t. His mouth felt too damn good when he latched on to my peaked nipple.
“Christ.” My wriggling wasn’t from fight this time, my head digging into the leaves, and what the fuck? I was not a nature girl, and my mother could tell anyone that.
Thatcher’s chuckle was gravelly over my tit, and he knew what to do with that too. We’d both been fully clothed the last time we fucked, and he hadn’t gotten to suck me.
Well, he was now, and I got my mind back when he made me cup his dick. He made me squeeze him, trying to force me to submit to him, and I bucked.
“Get off me, asshole,” I bit out, getting back into our game, and Thatcher’s response to this was to suck my tit harder. He laved that one before exposing my other breast and biting that too.
“Nah, these want me too much,” he said between tastes, bites. His voice was like molten lava against my skin, and when he forced my dress up, I gasped. He groaned. “This sweet little pussy wants me too.”
His hand dove into my underwear, and the sound I let out was feral. I was completely wet, soaked for him, and the moment he felt that, he allowed a finger to slide inside me.
“That’s right,” he said, my nipple popping out of his mouth. His previous work had his full lips bruised and beet red. He licked one before biting my neck, and I fought him again. His hands were all over me at this point, inside me and squeezing my tits, but not once did I use my safe word. This was something he obviously knew, so no matter how many times I called him an asshole or the dirty motherfucker he was (which was a lot), he didn’t stop.
He laughed, feeling me and fucking me with his fingers. They were so thick. Especially when he added more than one.
“You’re going to let me fuck this sweet pussy, snow. My dick needs a taste,” he hummed over my throat. He kissed my warm skin. “And like a good little whore, you’re going to let him use you, have his way…”
God, he was such an asshole and so filthy. I wasn’t into guys calling me a whore, but when Thatcher did it…
Even still, I didn’t make this easy for him. I actually struggled so much he had to use his bare chest to keep me from moving. I tried to touch it at one point, grab his cross and feel him, but he didn’t let me. He just used his weight to pin me down, and our positioning allowed him to still fuck me with his fingers.
His ministrations were so stimulating. He had that chunky ring on, and I kept feeling it deep inside me. Eventually, he curled his fingers and gathered some of my wetness out.
“Taste yourself, snow,” he said, forcing his thick digits past my lips. He invaded deep into my mouth, and at the sound of my moan, he groaned. “That’s it, snow. Taste yourself like a good girl.”
I bit his fingers instead, and he grabbed my throat. I lost air for a second, seeing stars. My eyes rolled back, and he kicked my knees apart.
“You’re not seeing my face,” he said, making me go on all fours. I heard a foil package rip, and I saw it when he tossed the empty condom wrapper in front of me. “You don’t get to see it. Maybe next time.”
Like there’d be a next time. Whatever this was between us… was crazy. It was toxic as fuck, and I had no intention of letting this guy fuck me again.
The thoughts were all well and good for the future, but at the present, I easily let him lock his big hands on my hips. He gave no warning before driving himself to the hilt inside me, and the invasion forced a sound to rip from my lungs. I gripped the ground, drawing blood against the leaves.
