by T. L Smith
“Are you being a naughty, little whore? You want to play a game of cat and mouse, do you?” He slaps my ass and pushes my face into the dirt. “We can play. Tell me, what eats a bunny?” He spreads my legs behind me, kicks them open, and stays lying on my back. The tears that leave my eyes don’t stop as they hit the dirt one after the other.
“Gunner, don’t.”
He comes down close, so his face is on my ear. “I can smell you, Everly. Tell me you don’t want it. That you aren’t wet for me right now.”
“I’m not.”
He slaps my ass again and it hurts. “We agreed not to lie to each other, Everly.” He takes a deep breath, his hand coming to touch my pussy and pushing a finger in. “Now tell me you aren’t wet for me. Tell me while I prepare to fuck you like a dirty whore on this ground like an animal.”
My body moves to accommodate his fingers and I hate myself for it.
“I can’t,” I scream out. There’s nothing around us but trees and dirt. No one will hear me—he’s made sure of that.
When I first met him, and he heard me saying I liked to be choked, how fucking stupid I was back then, joking about it.
Gunner doesn’t do vanilla play. How he did that with me for three months, I will never know. No, Gunner likes to treat me as if I’m a whore he’s picked up from the side of the street.
I am not.
“I know you can’t because you love it just as much as I do. Maybe even more.” He removes his fingers and I feel him there. He pushes in and stays holding me to the dirt, my face not able to move.
“I don’t.”
“You do. Your body responds to me in ways only a woman who wants to be fucked does.”
“Fuck you,” I say into the dirt.
He pushes in and out, holding me so I’m unable to move. My pussy is sore, and with each stroke and push he gives me, my body betrays me and enjoys each and every movement.
I hate him.
I love him.
“I hate you,” I scream.
“Sure you do.” He removes himself from me and lifts up, turning me around so I’m facing him. Rough hands lift my shirt as his mouth comes down and kisses my stomach. Then without warning he sucks my stomach hard, marking me then biting me in the same spot. His cock is free and hard as he sits up. He notices my eyes on it and they watch me. “You hate it, but you also can’t get enough of it. I wonder what your limit is? I don’t have one. And I’ll have to learn to be more careful with you. I don’t want to break you too early. I wouldn’t really want to bring another woman into this relationship.”
Oh, fuck no!
My heart rate picks up at his words.
“Why don’t you leave me and find yourself another woman? One who is better suited to your needs.”
He slaps me, hard, but not on my face, and not with his hand. No. He slaps my clit with his cock. It’s unexpected, and I yelp then attempt to close my legs which is impossible considering he’s right there.
“I’ll never leave you, Everly. I told you. I own you. And you’re perfect for me.”
I manage to sit up on my elbows. “And I own you.” I reach for him, sick of his games, and pull him down to me. He comes without a fight, and I roll him over so his back hits the dirt, and reach between us for his cock, directing it inside me and sliding down.
He smiles in surprise then I slap him.
Hard.
Again.
And again.
Each movement of me going down then up, I slap him.
He takes it. He even smirks through it and holds onto me, but ultimately lets me take control. When I realize he’s letting me, I lean down and bite his nipple, hard, to the point where I want to pull the damn thing off in some sort of retaliation. His hands grip my ass as I ride him, and his fingers dig in but again he doesn’t stop me.
Sitting up, my hands hold onto him, digging into his chest. I don’t stop even when I feel the sticky blood oozing from the wounds I’m inflicting on his perfect skin.
He can take it. He can take it, I tell myself as I come.
When I do, I collapse on top of him.
He strokes my hair which is full of dirt.
“There she is, my dirty little slut.”
“Fuck you.”
“Oh, you did, my love. You did.” He rolls me off him, and I lie in the dirt not even caring. When I look up, he reaches for me, but I don’t take his hand. Instead, I get up myself pulling the shirt down to cover my ass and start walking back to the house.
My vagina now hurting like a bitch.
“No more sex, I’m too sore.”
“Yes, my love.”
I turn around to face him. “Don’t play that game, you suck at it. Now I see who you really are.” I slap him again, just because I can. When I go to do it again, he grips my wrist, stopping me.
“This is who I am, I just showed you my tamer side. You couldn’t handle who I was at the beginning, you needed time.”
“You think this is enough time?” I ask him, throwing my hands up in the air. “No one in their right mind would be okay with this shit.”
“You are.”
“No. I’m damn well not. Stop tricking yourself into believing I am. I’m not. N.O.T. Not.”
He steps up close. “But you are.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
I huff.
I’m never going to get anywhere with him. Arguing with him about it is just frustrating and exhausting. Turning and walking back inside, I go straight for the shower. He follows me in and helps wash me. He’s tender when he touches between my legs, and I don’t attempt to stop him when he washes me.
It’s a softness to him that I’m not used to but quite enjoy. This is the part I was hoping for on our honeymoon, not being tied to the ceiling and being fucked in the dirt.
“You’re the only woman I have ever loved. Do you know that?” His washcloth comes up to my breasts and he’s gentle with them as well. I’m red, purple and black all over. I look like I’ve been attacked. I have—by my husband.
“Tell me, am I the only man you’ve loved?”
“You are,” I tell him the truth.
“Explain your love for me. Make me understand.”
“No,” I argue back. “You tell me yours.”
He doesn’t hesitate as he starts while he continues to wash me, his voice soft and his hands gentle. “At first I didn’t quite understand. It wasn’t something I’ve ever dealt with before. But when you looked at me the way you did at your parents’ place when you found out the truth, I knew then that I would never let you go. That you were mine no matter the cost.”
“Even if it meant everything you’ve built?” I ask him, knowing full well how much he works and how hard he works. He stops wiping me, lets the washcloth drop to the floor, then gently strokes my face.
“I would give up everything for you, Everly Reid.”
The name knocks the wind out of me.
That night, when I go to sleep in his arms, I dream of him.
25
The day is quiet, and we don’t speak much. Neither of us has any words left to give, and I’m tired, physically and emotionally. He cooks for me, treats me well all day. It’s a change from what this place has been for us the last few days. But I’m waiting, waiting for that other shoe to drop and knock the wind out of me again. Every time he comes near me, I flinch. He cares for my bruised body and is gentle with me.
He brings a television I didn’t know was here into the room and sets it up, putting a movie on as he climbs in next to me. “We’re leaving tomorrow.” He finally speaks. My body locks up tight. “And you will stay with me. Remember what I said, Everly.”
I don’t answer him, so he grabs my face and turns me to face him.
“Everly?” he asks again.
“I remember.”
“Are you feeling better, because I would like to have you again before we go.” My thighs clench and he notices. “Okay, your mouth then?”
“No.”<
br />
He raises an eyebrow at me. “I should tell you now… no between you and me doesn’t work very well. Especially when it comes to your body.”
“Fine, if you don’t like the word no, let me stick a dick up your ass.”
“No.”
I mimic him. “I should tell you now, no between you and me doesn’t work very well,” I say in the best manly voice I can muster.
“You’re making me mad, Everly.”
“You’re making me mad, Gunner,” I mimic again.
He moves fast, so fucking fast.
The food that was on the bed is now on the floor and my hands that were at my sides are raised above my head. He reaches for something next to him, and when I see it’s rope, I struggle even more to get free. Of course, he doesn’t let me. Tying each hand up, he sits back on me so I can’t move. Even if I tried to buck him off, it would do no good, he’s stronger than I am. That won’t stop me from trying, though.
“Everly, Everly…”
I knew the good part of him wouldn’t last long. It was only a matter of time before his devil came out to play.
“Gunner the asshole,” I chime back. I shouldn’t. I’m tied up underneath him while he sits on me. I’m at his mercy. He stands and steps next to me on my side of the bed and removes his sweatpants. I’m in a shirt. This seems to be his preference for me.
“Everly, let’s not resort to that. Unless you like it when I’m mad.” He strokes my face, my hands tied up over my head on the bedpost. He now stands in front of me naked, and hard. Gunner’s cock right in my face. His hand leaves my cheek and goes down, until he reaches my bare pussy. He strokes it and I flinch.
“I could fuck this.” He pushes a finger in, and I try to close my legs but it’s useless. Then he removes it and places it in his mouth, licking me off before he brings it back to my face. “Or this.” He runs that same finger on the outside of my mouth circling my lips. “Tell me, which do you prefer?”
He’s giving me a choice? I don’t believe him, so I keep my lips closed. He takes that as an answer and climbs back on the bed. Then he sits on me and comes to my eye level.
“I’m going to be a good husband, and let your sweet pussy heal. It needs to heal, so I can have you in our home, as man and wife, so I’m going to take your mouth.” He stops talking and gets to his knees so his hard cock is in my face. His rough hands reach for my hair and pulls it back, so I have to look up to him. “If you bite it, Everly, I will take your ass. Do you understand me?”
I clench my ass.
No way.
No fucking way.
“Good girl.” The grip he has on my hair pulls my head down, and the other opens my mouth. Then he pushes his cock in so far that I start gagging. “Don’t spew on me, Everly, or you won’t like the outcome. Just breathe.”
Somehow, I manage to take in a breath as he grips my hair harder and pushes in and out, in and out, his cock hitting the back of my throat causing my gag instinct to kick in every time.
My hands are still tied.
I’m unable to do a thing.
Except suck his cock.
The hand that was opening my mouth moves to my breast and he starts squeezing, hard. I cross my legs over and over again.
I’m wet—for him.
And I like it.
Why do I like it?
Fuck! I hate that I like it.
I look up at him to see he’s already watching me. He’s always assessing my reactions. It’s like he’s studying me, and he seems to know what my body likes better than I do. He smirks as my tongue starts to move on its own. His grip loosens, and he isn’t so violent to the point where he’s pulling out my hair now.
His finger circles my nipple and pulls, his hips thrust forward and back because I can’t move my head.
“See, Everly, you like it.”
The minute he says that, it’s like a bucket of ice-cold water, and I want to bite. Hard. But I don’t. And when I look up at him, I hope he sees the anger flashing in my eyes right now. Because I am, so fucking angry.
He moves faster, his hands squeezing harder on both my hair and my nipple as he comes. He doesn’t move, I feel the warm liquid shoot down the back of my throat and he stays in until every last drop is gone then, when he pulls out, he smiles.
“You loved it.” He gets off of me and walks to the bathroom, leaving me tied to the bed.
“I hate you,” I whisper to myself. “And I love you.” A tear leaves at the realization.
I’ve never had this before, never had my heart torn in so many different ways in my life. It hurts to know that the man I thought I would spend the rest of my life with wants to treat me this way, as if I am his whore.
I’m not his whore, I am anything but.
I’m his wife.
And he shouldn’t treat me like this.
The realization hits me hard. The tears that want to follow, don’t. And I stay still until he comes back out now dressed and ready.
“We have to leave. The shower is on, clean yourself up, and get dressed.” He walks over and unties me. When my wrists are free, they’re red from me pulling against the rope. He kisses them tenderly. “Cover yourself, no one needs to see any part of you. Only I can.”
I huff at him but choose not to answer back.
Climbing into the shower, I rinse my mouth and wash my face and body. When I’m done, I see jeans and a long-sleeve shirt, plus a cardigan. It’s mine and something I packed as I wasn’t sure what weather we were going to. When I slide the cardigan on, I turn to see him standing in the doorway watching me
“You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Do you know that?”
My blue eyes don’t even blink at his words. Why would they? I don’t trust what he has to say.
“You think I’m using you. I can see it in your eyes by the way you look at me. I’m not. I’m worshipping you in the only way I know how.”
I don’t say a word.
He becomes irritated now. “Everly, when we get back you will not leave me. Do you understand? I will put off this deal if I have to, and keep you here.”
Fuck no.
“I understand,” I say with a fake smile.
“I don’t believe you.”
“I understand,” I say again trying to mean it.
He scratches his head, his brown, sun-kissed curls tied up now. He looks even more dangerous in a suit. “You understand the consequences if we go home and you leave.”
“I understand,” I say again.
He grinds his teeth. “You can say more than that.”
“I understand.”
His fists clench at his sides. “Is this how you’re going to play?” He picks up our bags and starts walking out the front, loads them into a car, and then opens the passenger door for me to slide in. I do, and when he gets in, he drives away fast.
Angry at the wheel, not speaking to me the whole way, it’s no fun. We arrive at the private airport and I notice the jet we came here in.
“You drugged me,” I say to him.
He turns to raise an eyebrow at me. “Excuse me?”
“You drugged me?”
He laughs throwing his head back. “No, love, you did that to yourself. You said the sleeping pill wasn’t working, so you took another one, which in turn, knocked you out.”
“But—”
“I would never drug you.” He says it in a tone like he can’t believe I would even suggest it. Getting out, he comes around and opens my door, letting me out. He takes my hand in his, lacing his fingers through mine. “The only harm I would ever cause you is because you like it. Do you understand?” He pauses. “And don’t say what I think you’re about to say.”
I smile at him. A true smile because I was about to say it.
“You never asked me if I like what you do. How do you know I like it?”
Gunner leans in close to my ear. “You liked it when I spanked you, when we fucked before. You liked it when I wrapped my hands around your thr
oat. You like it, Everly. I just need to introduce you fully to the world of pain.”
“And what if I don’t want to?”
“You’re already in, my love.”
We walk up the stairs of the jet, and when we sit, he hands me my phone.
“In a few months, we will go wherever it is you’d like to go. Bora Bora, Bahamas, you name it. But for now, I have to go back to work.”
I turn my phone on and receive heaps of messages from May. One from my mother and a few from Alec. He’s short in his messages, asking me how I am and if we can talk.
I reply to everyone but him. I can’t see him like this. He will know something’s wrong and then, well, I don’t want to think about what would happen.
Looking up to my new husband, as he works on his phone, dressed in his designer suit which is perfectly pressed, I wonder how I can get sober. How I can leave him without destroying everything I am.
And who I love.
My husband is a man you never want to meet.
A man like him will destroy you.
And the sick part?
You’re going to like every single minute of it.
26
He grips my hand during the car ride back to his house. Our house, I guess. He doesn’t let me go, not even for a minute. When we arrive, he gets out and walks around to me, the driver staying in the car. I flinch when he puts his arms around me, and he notices straight away and pulls back.
“I would never hurt you.”
“That’s honestly laughable.”
Gunner looks at me confused. “Those things! They’re acts of intimacy. You like them, Everly. I like them. Together we will be fantastic.”
“We were fantastic.”
“Now you know that’s a lie.”
“Do I?” I argue back.
“Let me carry you in like a bride.”
When I don’t answer, he lifts me over his shoulder and carries me through our front door to the back where our bedroom is located. It’s changed since we were here last, and all my things have been carefully placed around the room. The closet is open and at least eighty percent of the stuff hanging in there is mine. My shoes even have places.
