Bone's Country 13

Bone took a deep breath, the heat of it singing through her hair to kiss the back of her neck with its embers. Sophia outright moaned. She’d almost forgotten about Bone, focusing so hard on his cock that she forgot it was only one part of the man. She rolled her hips and pressed her ass into his crotch until the length of his cock, trapped along his pantleg, was nestled between her creamy buttocks. Throbbing away so hard she could feel the reverberations of it up in her bladder—it was almost like she had to pee.

“You seemed to really like smacking my ass, over and over again,” Sophia whispered. “How do you like doing this with it, jefe?”

His hand clenched on her mouth, steely fingers cutting off her voice, her very breath. “Shut up,” he hissed in her ear, and Sophia felt his lust quivering in her clit, like a railroad spike juddering as the train passed overhead. No one could save her now, no one could hear her cry for help. She was totally in Bone’s power.

No more worrying about what or who or what she was. Bone was in control now. Woman or whore, she was his. She heard the rustle of cloth as he exposed himself, smelt his musk in the air, felt the heat of his erection against her bare sex like a gust of torrid air blowing just to her in all this cold. Like a stiflingly hot bath, only it would go inside her, not around her.

“Understand—” Bone’s voice was hard as gunmetal. “Where I want my cock to be, I put it.”

In the humid intimacy of the shared blanket, his free hand grasped her hips, bearing down on them like a predator atop some fresh kill. He held her still as he brought his eager erection between her plush buttocks. His sheer hardness forced them apart; she felt how powerfully his stiffness jerked, rebounding against her ass, reminding Sophia of how he had spanked her the night before.

Sophia squeaked against his blockading palm. Bone had taken her from behind on other occasions, but still in her concha, where it was meant to go. She felt him use his free hand to roughly spread her buttocks and better allow him access to the crevice between—access he had never needed when entering her the natural way.

She felt his touch at the puckered little opening of her ano. An impatient throb behind the contact that could only be his arousal. She gasped, forming protests that went past his hand only as nonsense syllables.

“Oh God! Don’t! Not there! Please, don’t put your cock there!”

Her pleading was obvious, but the hand that muffled her made her as understandable as a whining animal. And it didn’t matter even if Bone could hear her. As he said, where he wanted his cock to be…

Still, she couldn’t believe what she was feeling as he held himself at her defensively tightened opening, letting her feel the vast, engorged size of the intruder he expected her to take. He was hard as she’d ever felt him… one thrust and he’d be inside her, ruthlessly forcing her undersized asshole to expand enough for his use. Madre de Dios—just when she’d grown used to how roughly he satisfied her concha, even come to crave it, now this! It was an unspeakable horror. A thing perverted beyond imagination.

Still gagging her, Bone moved his free hand, skirting her hip then snaking it down between her thighs. He felt out the soft chocolate curls of her pubic hair, then slid his ring finger inside of her. Sophia arched her back and screamed loud enough to shake his restraining hand, but no sound escaped his tight hold.

Bone moved his finger up through her quivering opening, to pet her stiffening clitoris. She bucked as she was touched even more intimately. Pleasure flooded her mind, distracting her from the painful prospect of having her ass violated. She felt only his finger: circling, rubbing, tantalizing her little clit into the furthest exploration of its magic.

His lips touched her earlobe. “Goddamn. You’re wet as a riverbed. Even with my cock about to go up where you shit. You really are a whore.”

Sophia could only moan. The feeling was spreading, her wetness overwhelming the fright that should’ve had her pussy taut and tender. Instead it was opening up, silky and warm, ready to let him into her. Her ass too… it didn’t feel so frantically clenched now… it felt like it wouldn’t be so bad, to fit him up in that tiny space, so long as he was doing this at the same time… stroking and smoothing, stabbing and fucking, making her feel good enough in her cunt that she didn’t care how much he hurt her elsewhere.

“I could fuck you anywhere, even there, and you’d love it. But this isn’t about what you’d love. It’s about what I want. And I don’t want half the Injuns in Texas up my ass because of the noise you make.” His lips parted wetly in a smirk. “Even if you’re clearly getting used to the idea of having things up your ass.”

The blood was pulsing in her temples. She felt the thrumming spread through her, like the rippling water in a lake after a stone had been dropped in it… beats moving across her skin, a gentle caress, almost calming her after Bone had excited and frightened and angered her so.

Bone redirected his prick between her thighs. Exhaled in hoarse satisfaction at the feel of her velvety flesh surrounding his hardness, even if he wouldn’t be properly using it. He was getting off on knowing she was his to toy with, Sophia knew. Or not play with.

“Now get some sleep,” he told her. “We’ve got a hard day’s ride tomorrow.”

But his denial only made Sophia’s eagerness more intense. Her arousal throbbed out of her cunt, rolling over her flesh like the warm light that came with the dawn. It retreated, only to come back stronger—hardening her nipples, making her part her legs to fully feel the aching, swelling pressure at the core of her.

She tried to ignore it, but sensations ghosted at all of her: pinching and pulling and sucking and prodding and pressing and penetrating. Sophia was close to the edge, she knew… so close… she would succumb to so very little, if only Bone would give it to her. She ran her hand down her stomach and on between her legs, tilting her flushed face back and moaning into Bone’s hand.

Sophia was wet, electric—three rubbing fingers worked her right up to their precipice at their first touch, then she let herself calm, settle. She didn’t want to bring herself off. She wanted Bone to do it. How could he resist her when he was right there, body to body with her, and she was on the verge of absolute surrender?

Bone’s other hand came down between her thighs. Sophia surged, right on the cusp of it, squealing against Bone’s palm as he cupped her warm honeypot. But he didn’t stroke her, didn’t finger her. Only squared his hand between her legs, holding on so that his big hand blocked off her own touch.

“I said no,” he breathed. “Go to sleep.”

Sophia fumed. Her blood felt like it was boiling. She wanted to scream all night, making Bone stay up until he had palmed each and every cry she made. She was more turned on than ever.

“You’ll get there,” Bone assured her, “when I say you can. And the more you’re a brat about it, the longer it’ll take. Comprende?”

Sophia could only just manage a nod. The throb at her core was still hot and insistent and near impossible to ignore, but she knew if she could pretend it wasn’t there long enough, then the crescendo would be better than anything she could imagine.

As it had been after he’d spanked her, when she’d come and come and come.

***

Bone awoke with one hand still over Sophia’s mouth, the other on her cunt. She had fallen asleep in the night, but the insistent twitch he felt at her groin told him that her dreams were not of jelly beans or puppy dogs.

He considered further education on her place: relieving the vexing fullness of his gonads, but not inside her. In her face or on her magnificent cleavage. It would surely show her that no matter his need, it would never make him supplicant to her as she was to him.

But Bone restrained himself. He’d been asking himself too much lately if Sophia deserved this or that, or if he were looking for an excuse to punish her. Bone didn’t consider himself a cruel man. He didn’t like the thought of Sophia as some untamed thing, always being taught her place and never learning it. It was a poor horseman who beat a mount that wouldn’t learn.

And the irony of it was, he’d thought taking Sophia’s offer would simplify his life. No more whores, no more romances, just a body slave as of ancient Rome. He would gratify himself with her and need no more think on her than doing the picayune that would bring her to completion. She was too hot to need more than that.