Knotted (Trails of Sin 1)

Holding my finger in her rectum, I slide my thumb into her cunt and kiss her clit. “When you’re aroused and fully lubricated, it’s extremely pleasurable.”

“How would you know? Have you ever had anything forced into your ass?”

“No.” But the women I fucked in the past loved it enough to beg for it. “Have you ever watched a video with anal sex?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“They’re actors.” The muscles in her pussy contract around on my thumb. “They’re paid to make it look tantalizing.”

But she likes it.

“Tell me about your favorite one,” I say.

She sets her jaw and looks away, stubborn as ever.

I return my mouth to her clit and feast, licking and sucking until she writhes and moans and trembles beneath me. Then I remove my touch and pull away.

Her frustrated glare shoots a sadistic thrill to my cock.

“Your favorite video.” I wet my lips.

“You’re mean.”

“Persistent.” I wink.

“Dangerous.”

“Dangerously in love.”

She drops her head on the ground and stares up at her wrists in the straps. “I found this one video online. A movie clip from a foreign film.”

I lower my mouth to her pussy and wait.

Her throat moves through a swallow. Then she describes a woman acting out a rape scene, one that includes bondage, choking, and anal.

Her nipples tighten as she talks, her voice raspy and breaths growing shallow. She explains how she pauses and restarts it, controlling the pain and getting off on the power in that. By the time she finishes, her pussy is wetter than I’ve ever seen it.

With my hands under her thighs, I yank her to me, bury my face and finish her off within seconds. She comes violently, rolling her hips, grinding her cunt against my mouth, and screaming my name.

Fucking hell, she’s exquisite. I’m so damn turned on it takes great effort to not bust a nut in my pants.

As she calms down, I pepper kisses along her inner thighs. Then I climb up her body, trailing my lips across every delicious inch of her, nibbling and tasting with unhurried touches.

I release the strap on her wrists and take her mouth gently, kissing her because I have to, because I’ll lose my mind if I don’t.

Her fingers tangle in my hair, and her lips intoxicate my soul. My tongue guides her. Her moans meet mine. Our breaths fuse, and our hearts beat as one.

It’s impossible to describe the bond we share. We’re too great for words. Too sacred. We’re a feeling that goes beyond starts and stops. We’re stronger than hellos and goodbyes and deeper than beginnings and ends.

We’re an existence that can’t be measured. It doesn’t matter where she is or what I’ve done. We’ll always come back to this place. A place that can’t be found on a map or a time line. Nothing in the world can touch us here.

Stretched out beneath me, she returns my kiss with a hungry mouth, her hands traveling the length of my body and reaching for my zipper.

“Conor.” I capture her wrist and bring it to my lips. “You want to have sex with me?”

“I…” Her trembling body screams yes, but her eyes taper into suspicious slits. “I’m attracted to you.”

“So you’re ready to go for it, yeah? Your way.”

Her mouth forms a flat line.

“When I fuck you, we’re doing it my way. Let me give you a hint…” I pinch her nipple, hard enough to make her gasp. “I love all the positions.”

“You know I can’t—”

“Not until I earn your trust.”

“If you would tell me everything you’re keeping from me…”

“Soon.” We still have a hard road ahead, but one thing’s for certain. “You’re mine, Conor Cassidy.”

I steer Conor through the next week with more of the same. More kissing and touching. More light bondage. More therapy.

Grueling memories fill the pages of her journal front to back, and conversations about those memories fill our days.

At night, we find sanctuary on the back porch with Jarret, reminiscing, singing, and playing guitar. Then we retire to our bed, her body wrapped around mine, and pretend we don’t want to fuck each other’s brains out.

It’s been a long goddamn week.

I lean against the kitchen island and watch her flit along the back counter, wiping down surfaces and putting things away. Jarret drove into town to bang his flavor of the night, and the house is deafeningly quiet and still, as if holding its breath.

I’m the one not breathing.

The wait is finally over.

The bodies in the ravine, the blackmail with my dad, the news of Levi Tibbs’ release, the planning and secrecy, the therapy sessions, her declaration of love—all this had to materialize and culminate, to bring us to this pinnacle point. Tonight, I’ll lift her out of that dark tortured place in her mind, where she’s held herself captive for six years, and set her free.

She pauses at the sink with her back to me and sighs. “Two days.”