11. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

Pressed in the dirt, dick in the cold mud, Rowan was shivering with excitement and fear as Sig grabbed a fistful of hair and spoke right in his face. “You are about to get fucked so hard, and the only thing that will stop me is those two words. Get me?”

A nod came instead of speaking, and Sig was happy with that. “Good. You’re learning.”

His hips were grabbed as Sig got behind him, and then the side of Rowan’s thigh was slapped. “Position so you’re looking out at the view. Might as well have one nice thing to think about while you’re being hurt.”

Rowan moved carefully over the tiny rocks and mud, the stones biting into his knees something terrible. Then, he looked out at the miles and miles in front of him and let out a little gasp. It was like he was flying over the fucking world.

He was entered while he stared off into the horizon by two fingers coated in lube. It wasn’t gentle, not even a little, and Rowan wanted to let his head drop, but he was told to stare at the view. He wouldn’t disobey the man, not for anything in the world.

Two fingers banged into him, then three, stretching and coating him in lube at once. His fingers curled into fists, and each finger was coated in mud. The breeze blew over their naked bodies, but he still didn’t feel the cold. Not when Sig was making him so hot, fingering him, then slapping his ass at the same time.

A slap, then a painful grab of his ass cheek, another slap, and then the fingers were out of him, and the cock was pushed in swiftly, making Rowan scream out from the surprise and the burn.

With Sig’s heavy meat, there was no stretching that could prepare, and he felt every vein on the man’s fat cock as it slid through the ring of muscle. Rowan kept his head up, but once Sig was inside of him, Sig grabbed his upper arms, pulling them back so he depended on Sig to keep his face from hitting the dirt.

Holding Rowan’s arms, he started to immediately fuck Rowan crazily. Grunting like an animal, pounding into him, using his own arms to pull him back on the cock, Sig was relentless.

He imagined he looked like he was diving into the air, face front, arms back, like some caricature of a superhero, a man driving into him with tiny animal growls, the breeze blowing over his face the only thing keeping the sweat that poured from his head from blinding him.

In that uncomfortable position for the rest of his body, however, Sig was perfectly aligned to slam into Rowan’s prostate, and he was receiving the hardest jolts of a pain/pleasure mixture he’d ever encountered. Not just a slide across it, no gentle nudge of the thing, but hard smacks, like he was deliberately punching it.

He moved Rowan so his face was on the dirt, and he pulled out of him quickly, spinning Rowan around to his back. Chest heaving, Sig simply stared at him for a minute or two, looking over his naked body, cracking his knuckles, smiling like a fiend that was about to devour him.

Grabbing two fistfuls of mud, he slapped them onto Rowan’s face and chest, smearing them around as he hissed, “The pretty boy needs to get a little dirty.”

Rowan wanted to shout, to scream again, to push him away and fight, but his body wouldn’t let him. He was breathing in great gulps of air, and still, he felt like he was drowning. And, well, maybe he was. Drowning in the way Sig was making him feel.

So often, he was treated like some delicate flower, a star, but Sig wanted to bring the real him out of that glass case and dirty him up a little. Yeah, Sig wanted to see past everything he saw on a stage under the lights, which were always pointed in the perfect way to bring out the best parts of him.

On that mountain, his face muddied, hair in the dirt, a hand slapping his tit, Rowan felt like a real person, before clothes, before manners and etiquette, when humans survived off twigs, berries, and meat thrown in the fire.

Rowan watched Sig stand, saw the dirt and mud spread over his fine, thick, perfect body and he moaned for him. He reached out, begging wordlessly for Sig to come back to him.

He did, but not before picking up a thin twig. “Get on your knees and lace your fingers behind your head. I’m taking this twig to you.”

Rowan’s jaw again dropped as he stared at that thing. “Sig…”

“Safeword or do what I said.”

The smile came to his lips, and he had no clue where it came from, but once he felt it, he didn’t try to make it go away. On his knees in seconds, threading his fingers together behind his head like he’d been busted by the police for some crime, he stayed as still as he could, though his body quaked as he waited for the pain.

Oh, but it came. The sound of the swishing was high-pitched and frightening. That was nothing to the sound and feeling of the thing as it landed across both cheeks of his ass. His hands came down to shield his ass, and he started to walk across the dirt on his knees, but a hand reached for him, grabbing him by the hair, pushing him to the ground facedown, and a foot was on his back as the twig came down again and again, striking over his ass and the backs of his thighs as his screaming scared the birds halfway down the mountain. He barely got to see them flying off before he was struck with the twig again, then Sig got on top of him, shoving his cock back inside of Rowan’s hole, pounding him as an arm wrapped his throat and he was held there, unable to move or scream again.

Sig’s other hand grabbed more mud that was smeared and matted into Rowan’s hair, the arm across his throat tightening while Sig used him relentlessly. God, he was in a swirl of incredible heat, his body thrumming, aching, stinging, and his cock throbbing as he was treated like a dirty slut instead of a fancy whore.

The distinction to some would be minimal, but for him, it was wider than the Grand Canyon. The way Sig fucked, it was deep, hard, like he expected of the man, but it wasn’t just a push-in and a pull-out. He moved his hips in tight circles, he’d take out his cock completely, slap it across Rowan’s ass a few times, then bang it back inside him. One thing was sure: Rowan couldn’t predict what Sig would do to him.

By the time Sig was even close to coming, they were rolling around in the dirt and mud, and Rowan saw Sig had clumps of it in his beard and hair. Kissed roughly, feeling the burn of Sig’s beard on his cheeks and chin, Rowan felt the dirt in his mouth, gritting between his teeth.

Never had he had such raunchy, literally dirty sex. It was glorious, and he felt Sig’s excitement as he plowed into him as Rowan was finally on his back, legs slung over Sig’s shoulders and the man himself growling down on him.

Sig’s hips came to a halt as he sneered, “My little fuck pig, rolling in the mud, it’s so apropos.”

Fuck pig and apropos in the same sentence was a new thing for him, but the waves of erotism that rolled through him reminded him of the few times he’d taken Molly.

The best things about the world were rolling through him: sex, love, need, pain, pleasure, light, dark, smiling, and sneering. Rowan reached up to him, picking a dried piece of mud from Sig’s beard, tossing it at him, hitting one of his pecs.

“You’re having fun,” Sig whispered. “I didn’t know how far I could go with you.”

“Have I used my safeword?”

Sig shook his head a little, and the sneer turned into the most beautiful smile Rowan had ever seen.

It came to him that Sig wanted to know how compatible they’d be together, exploring kink. Rowan knew he passed a test that Sig may or may not have known he’d been giving.

Sig moved over him and kissed him much more tenderly while pushing back inside of Rowan, and he laughed a little, whispering, “You like it rough, huh?”

“Not with everyone. But with you? I do.”

That started them all over again, and by the end of it, he was crawling on the ground and begging for the man’s cock, only to have his face slapped with it before he finished Sig off in his mouth, swallowing his cum like he was being given the finest wine.

Sig got on his knees and stroked Rowan, staring into his eyes, watching his every expression until Rowan spilled all over the dirt. That, again, was apropos.

Rowan was soon covered with Sig’s body, held closely in his arms, hands rubbing over his now-cold skin. “Sorry.”

“What could you be sorry for?”

“I went nuts.”

“I had a great time,” he said sincerely. “I don’t ever remember having so much fun.”

Sig looked him over and said, “You’re a mess.”

“You, too. Where are our clothes?”

“Around.”

Rowan nodded to the sky, and what was once bright blue was covered with clouds. “It looks like the temperature is about to drop.”

“Let’s get dressed. We’re going to the club tonight.”

“We’re still going?”

“Fuck, yes,” he said as he got to his feet. “Think I am passing that up? VIP floor, my new man with me, making everyone jealous?”

“Then I need a shower. Two. Possibly three.”

“Get dressed, and let’s head down this mountain.”

Rowan was getting his shoes on as Sig shook the dirt from his coat and held it for him like a gentleman. As he was helped on with the coat, it came out, like it had been barely holding back, and the words came flying out and were almost lost in a gust of wind.

“I’m falling in love with you, Sigmund.”

Sig’s movements stopped, and when Rowan couldn’t stand it a moment longer, he turned to see the man’s reaction. Seeing tears in Sig’s eyes, he suddenly wished he hadn’t said anything. “I mean, it’s…it’s been so great, and I don’t need you to say it; it’s just…”

“Shut the fuck up,” he said, then Rowan was kissed and held tightly. “I’m already in love with you, like some fucking idiot kid, falling for a guy after a few days. I…was afraid to say anything.”

Rowan kissed him and then embraced him, closing his eyes and feeling closer to Sig than he’d felt to anyone in his entire life. “Sig…I don’t want you ever to be afraid to say anything to me. Ever. Let’s not start…whatever this is that way.”

Sig nodded on his shoulder and said, “Let’s go before it snows on us.”

“I’m all for that.”

They made it down the hill quickly and Sig started the jeep, letting it warm, holding Rowan’s hand while they waited. “Your stocking cap is dirty too,” he said to Rowan.

“I have dirt in the crack of my ass, Sigmund, and it’s not comfortable at all.”

“You’re not alone, Rowan.”

“Good,” he said before he leaned over and kissed him. “That was fun, I wasn’t lying.”

“It was pretty fun, yeah. Listen, if you don’t want to go to the club tonight…”

“I can’t wait to go. I want to walk in there with you on my arm and have fun instead of working.”

Sig’s eyes took him in, and he smiled so sweetly that it touched Rowan’s heart’s center. “You got it.”