“Look at my cock in you, Katie.”
She glanced down. For a taut, sensual moment, they both watched as Rill pulled and pushed on the swing and his cock burrowed its way into her body. When he moved the swing back several inches and his cock was exposed to the sunlight, she saw how the thin condom glistened with her juices.
“Your pussy is pulling on me,” Rill grated out through a tight jaw. “I swear, Katie, you always try me.”
She opened her mouth to tell him she didn’t mean to, but he tightened his hold on the seat and flexed his arms. She swung forward. His pelvis smacked against her spread thighs with a brisk whap. Katie cried out sharply at the sensation of suddenly being filled by a hard, teeming cock. Rill growled in his throat, deep and low. He moved the swing in a tiny, subtle circling motion, grounding her pussy against his balls.
“Oh, yeah,” he muttered gutturally. “This is going to be so good.”
He spread his legs slightly, planting his feet. He eased the muscle tension in his arms and the swing swung back. Her pussy slid along his cock. He pulled on the swing and Katie flew forward, swallowing him into her body and smacking against Rill’s pelvis and thighs.
The swing made the whole process almost mechanized in its efficiency. He stood unmoving, his ass and thigh muscles clenched tight, his gaze glued to the image of his cock pounding into her body in short, forceful thrusts. He fucked her hard. His shoulder, pectoral and a
bdomen muscles looked rigid with strain. His biceps swelled as he used them to control their mating.
The precision and intensity of the whole process, the obvious relish he took from watching his cock plunging in and out of her, should have embarrassed her. He was completely using her body for his pleasure, utterly focused on finding bliss in her flesh.
Instead, it aroused her to see Rill so lost in the moment, so infused with need that he became the essence of pure, driving desire.
A low, desperate whine began to vibrate her throat. The friction was almost brutal, it was so precise. His arms quickened the pace. Loud, staccato slapping noises of skin against skin blended with Rill’s grunts of pleasure and the paradoxical sounds of peaceful birdsong from the trees.
His breath came in jagged puffs. A sheen of perspiration shone on his chest and flat abdomen. Katie wanted to touch him so bad. She ached, wanting to ease him in his crisis of anguished ecstasy.
She strained to find her own release from this blissful torment.
“Harder,” she whispered between pants.
Her eyes popped wide when he growled menacingly and complied. She hadn’t really thought he could be any more forceful in his possession, but she’d been wrong. She had a fleeting image of Rill’s snarl as his pleasure crested, and then her right cheek was pressed against a pectoral muscle that had grown hard as stone as he held her against his body. His roar of release vibrated up from his chest to her face. His cock swelled, then lurched inside her body, the sensation so intense it made her grimace in a mixture of pain and pleasure.
She felt him twitching deep inside her as he ejaculated. She clamped her eyes shut, overwhelmed with the intensity of the moment . . . slain by the feeling of harboring the man she loved deep within her while he surrendered himself to her.
Her fear of how fleeting, how impermanent the feeling was made her relish it . . . cling to it with a wild desperation.
After several moments, his rigid hold on the swing slackened. She cried out when she swung away from him and their physical connection was broken.
He stepped forward and caught her as she swung back toward him. He brought her against him with one arm around her waist.
“Shhhh,” he murmured, his lips against her neck. His hand moved between her thighs. Sunlight warmed her forehead and her body sang beneath his touch. He kissed her parted lips when she shuddered in climax a moment later, swallowing her sharp cries of pleasure.
“You make me crazy, Katie,” he said as they clung together and her muscles turned to soft, heated mush.
She ran her sensitive lips against his whiskered jaw and spoke next to his neck.
“And you make me sane.”
Twenty-one
A week and a half later Katie pulled into the drive in front of the Mitchell place, only to see that Rill’s car was gone, but another sat in its place. She heaved a sigh of disappointment. She’d been looking forward to seeing Rill after a long day of running Errol to rehab and meeting with the director of the county community center. She’d been offered the job Monty had mentioned. While Katie was still flush from her success, Jane Sacks, the director, had surprised her by immediately sending her on her first assignment.
And what an assignment. She’d gotten lost in the wooded hills searching for a woman most of the locals knew merely as the chinchilla lady. The chinchilla lady, whose real name was Lila Raschamack, lived all alone on a chinchilla farm, which she’d inherited from her husband.
The chinchilla lady had welcomed Katie to her ramshackle farm with a soggy cigar hanging from her mouth and a loaded shotgun in her hands.
Fortunately, Katie was used to dealing with crazy old coots; she’d had her share of them in visiting Hollywood mansions. Movie stars were nearly as idiosyncratic and loony as the people of Vulture’s Canyon.
She’d eventually been able to convince the gun-toting Lila that she’d been sent by the county to help her with the compliance audit the federal government had sent her for the sale of some of her chinchillas last year to a furrier. After some investigation of the circumstances, Katie thought she could make a good case to the IRS given the costs associated with raising the livestock. Lila had been so pleased with the news, she’d offered Katie one of her cigars and took her out into her backyard to show her the spectacular vista of the sun setting in the deep canyon.
Katie had turned down the cigar, but she’d been strangely pleased by the offer. That and the blessed fresh air she’d been able to inhale after leaving the revolting-smelling barn where Lila kept the chinchillas.