I’m bleeding out and Bowen’s laughing!
He comes to a halt, inches from my bare feet, soles black and ankles speckled with dirt and streaks of blood. The shadows split his face in half, shrouding his eyes and lighting up his mouth stretched into a wide grin.
“If you want to hide, stay out of the light.”
“What?” I cough, staring up at him in horror.
Bowen lifts his arm, and with it, the silhouette of a gun I don’t recognize, “It’s only paint, darling.”
I’m frozen with shock, my heart still racing and the splotches on my skin stinging in spite of the adrenaline overload.
He tosses the black paintball gun onto the ground and crouches down, sliding his hand over my foot, “Like I said, your self-awareness is for shit.”
Bowen grabs my ankle and jerks me down, knocking my elbows out from under me. Dead leaves crunch and scrape against my bare back as he drags me toward him. He glances at my shoulder and then sweeps his finger across the welt that’s forming. When he holds it up in front of me, the neon orange is unmistakable.
My chest heaves at the realization that I’m not dying—that I’m not actively bleeding out in the middle of the woods. And now, I hardly care that Bowen drove me, screaming and flailing, from the back of his truck, because now I’m not alone anymore. He swipes the paint across my cheek with a smile.
I shoot him an indignant look, “You shot me.”
“Well,” his smile turns menacing, “if you still want to be a little bitch, then you’re going to get treated like one,” he grabs my hips and flips me onto my stomach, tossing leaves into the air, “fucked in the dirt like the rest of the animals…”
I land with a shriek and catch myself before my face hits the ground. A rush of cool air sweeps over me as Bowen grabs the waist of my shorts and underwear and jerks them down in one motion. He hoists my hips off the ground, slamming my ass against his thighs, making my muscles tense with excitement when I feel him tearing at the button of his jeans.
I press my fingertips into the soft earth and brace myself, waiting for the one thing he’s been depriving me of since I set foot in these woods. And, a moment later, he drives his cock into me with such force, it knocks the breath from my lungs. Everything around me melts away and my cries turn to rhythmic moans with each thrust. Bowen wraps my hair around his fist and wrenches my head back so far that my arms come off the ground.
“Oh, God!” I cry out in pain and my hands fly behind my head, grabbing his wrist.
He grabs my waist and pulls me to his chest, still moving inside me, “God’s not out here, baby girl,” his voice is thick like syrup, “it’s just you and me. These are my trees and my dirt, and I decide who’s forgiven, and who leaves, and who doesn’t.”
As menacing as he sounds, I start rocking back and forth against him, wanting him deeper inside me. Maybe I’m just as unhinged as he is.
He loosens his grip and lets me fall forward until I catch myself on the ground, “Ask for my forgiveness now.”
“I’m sorry…” I murmur between breaths, moving my hips in sync with his, “I’m sorry…”
“Louder, baby girl,” he commands as his thighs smack against my ass, “I don’t believe you!”
“I’m…sorry!” my cries echo through the trees as I apologize for my transgressions, spoken and unspoken, in an effort that it might make a difference.
Bowen slams into me one more time and then gives me a firm smack and pulls out, making me wince. I push up to my knees, watching him as he rises and starts circling me. He stops square in front of me, his unbuttoned jeans hanging loose on his hips, and looks down at me with a chaotic mixture of satisfaction and disdain. Slowly, he saunters across the clearing to the tree fall where he turns around and slides down the rough bark into the leaves.
Bowen’s face softens and he actually smiles, “Let me hear it again,” he says, curling his fingers and beckoning to me.
I move to stand up, grit embedded in my knees, and survey the landmines of dead branches and thorny vines scattered across the clearing. Slowly lifting one foot after another, I move gingerly over the patches of grass and dirt littered with grit, dead leaves, broken twigs, and whatever carpet of debris stands in my way. Bowen watches me intently, his dark eyes unyielding to any emotion. And when I arrive at his feet, he reaches for my hand and pulls me into his lap.
He reaches into his jeans and presses his face against mine, “Let me hear it,” he snarls, “fucking whore.”
A grin creeps across my face when I feel how hard he is against my bare stomach.
I reach down and hold him steady while I slip his tip inside me, “Bo…” I breathe, sucking in a lungful of night air as I sink down, “I’m…”
His eyes fly open like he’s just woken up. I never call him what everyone else does, but he loves it the more I say it, “You’re what?” he kneads my ass, rolling my hips so he fills me completely.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur against his lips.
Bowen twists my curls around his fingers, “You know I’ll always take care of you, baby girl,” he breathes, “I’ve been waiting for you,” he bows his head and runs his tongue up my chest in a slow kiss, “you’re my goddess, my fucking queen, no one exists but you, and I’ll give you anything you want.”
With one more roll of my hips, he hits that perfect spot deep inside me. I press my forehead against his, raking my fingers through his hair, glistening with sweat as the orgasm starts building in my core. Then I start to chase it, riding him hard.
“Come on, baby girl,” Bowen teases, sliding one hand down between my legs, “show me why I decided to keep you.”
Finally, the wave crests and I let out a chaotic jumble of cries as I collapse on his entire length over and over, sending mind-bending tremors up through my chest. Suddenly, Bowen grabs my ass with both hands and rolls me onto the ground, coming down on top of me. The forest debris scrapes my back, needling my shoulders and my ass as he grabs my throat, squeezing hard enough to hit me with a surge of adrenaline that turns my aftershocks to pure bliss. He hitches my leg and starts driving into me, coming so hard that my ass lifts off the ground with every thrust.
When it’s over, Bowen’s hand falls away from my throat and trails down to my torso. He lets his head fall back onto his shoulders, his chest rising and falling as he inhales the night air through his open mouth. After he comes down from the high, he slowly falls forward, hovering over me in the dirt and leaves.
Bowen’s deep voice turns soft and serene, “You ready to go home now?”
“Are you still angry?” I murmur, curling my fingers around the backs of his forearms.
His mouth widens into a crooked smile, “Fuck, no,” he lifts his hand, tracing my features with his thumb, “I love you, Brett. You’re everything I want, and everything that no one else could be.”
I rest my hand on top of his as it moves gently over my cheek, over the grime and sticky remnants of the last time he rubbed his hand over my face.
“I love you too, Bowen,” I sigh, “I want to go home now.”
As soon as he pulls me to my feet, he wraps one arm around my back and the hooks his other behind my knees. He lifts me up and starts trudging back through the brush. Now that I’m still and my sweat’s dried, the night air feels cold against my naked body, making me curl in against his chest.
“It’s not far, I promise,” Bowen kisses my head as I shiver against him.
