Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Betsy

H is hands are on me—finally.

He yanks down the bodice of my gown. Closing his hot mouth over my nipple and a good portion of my breast, he sucks vigorously, pulling me closer as he does.

His cock is still out, sticky and hard between us.

His taste is still in my mouth.

With one big hand on my ass and the other in my hair, he holds me to his liking as he suckles greedily on my flesh. The sweet, tugging sensation drives dizzy pleasure straight to my core. I have dreamed of this man so often. He has starred in every fantasy I’ve ever had—a big, capable blacksmith with acres of shoulders and muscles everywhere.

But it is not only about that. Heath is so much more than a hot man I lust for. He is a good father, kind, and generous of his time. Steady . He is like a rock standing against life’s troubles in this bleak city, while I am a tempestuous storm crashing through life, for it is precious and has shown me its fragility.

I live voraciously, for I live in fear that these moments of joy might be snatched away.

We are opposites, Heath and I, and yet to be in his arms is to find a place where I fit.

I loved him even before he helped to save me that night. Stormed the infamous cells where I had been taken. A part of the rebellion, he is no stranger to violence in the name of the cause. Such a man would protect me always.

Such a man would keep me safe.

With such a man, I could let go and know he would be there to catch me.

“Betsy, Betsy, Betsy,” he mumbles against my throat.

His nose draws across my skin to the other side, where he yanks the bodice down and begins to torment me anew. He pinches and rolls my nipple between his fingers then closes his lips over it and sucks too sharply. It hurts a little—a sweet, achy sensation that ignites flames in my core. My hands burrow in his hair, pulling him closer. I arch up into his touch, wanting more, craving him and only him.

His lips pop off, and his dark eyes clash with mine. “These tits are a test,” he says. He cups them in both big hands and squeezes them together, grasps both my nipples and pinches them cruelly.

His lips seek and find mine as we share another lusty kiss.

Heath

I am out of my mind for her. A man possessed with one need alone. Her scent fills my senses. Her soft skin under my rough palms. My fingers are shaking as I grasp her dress and thrust up her skirts… or try to. My lips are still locked on hers; the dress is trapped between us, but she seems to get the idea of what I want and lifts her hips, fumbling to help me drag the skirt out of the way, making her tits jiggle against me in the most arresting way. All the while, we are kissing, our tongues tangling like we are trying to consume one another.

Finally, the skirt comes free in a rush. My lips slide off hers. My chest is heaving like the bellows in my well-stoked forge. I lower my gaze past her quivering tits to where her skirts have gathered up, keeping her most intimate place from my sight.

I push them aside roughly, exposing the thin material of her panties.

“Fuck, lass,” I mutter. “You have drenched your panties through.”

There is an unmistakable dark patch. I slide my fingertips over it gently. I can feel her fat clit poking through the thin material. She jolts when I scrape my nail across it and arches up against me.

“Is this for me, Betsy? Or is this for any man who touches you?” My fingers make a fist over the wet material.

“Only you, Heath,” she pleads.

So many fucking men. She taunted me with what I thought I could never have, slipping out the back with them. Then, returning bright eyed and pink cheeked after they had touched her and made her feel good.

I quash down fears that I am not enough, that I couldn’t possibly satisfy her. My dick is hard again. Damn it all. I want to seed this pussy for myself. I want her feeling all sore inside where I have been.

These feelings are new and untempered. They slam into me like waves battering down my resistance. I don’t know my intentions; I just hear the tearing noise as I rip her panties in two.

“Heath,” she murmurs.

“Quiet, lass. You asked for this, and now you’re going to take it.” I slide my fingers through the wet folds of her pussy, and then, with my eyes on hers and my other hand locked around her throat, holding her steady, I push two thick fingers inside.

Her breathing turns choppy. Her eyes are glazed as I slide my fingers in and out.

“Does that feel good, lass?”

“So good.”

She is so hot and tight inside. I already know it’s going to feel amazing when my cock gets in here. There are specters waiting on my periphery, taunting me. Telling me this is a taste and all I’ll ever have. She’ll move on tomorrow. Find somebody else. I’m just a challenge, one she has now conquered. But damn it, I want to leave an impression upon her so potent she will never forget.

I pick up the pace of my fingers plunging into her a little rougher.

“Oh gods.”

“That’s my good girl. Are you going to come for me? Are you going to come all over my fingers?”

“No.” She shakes her head defiantly.

I squeeze my fist around her throat a little, reminding her that she is under my control, however fleeting this is. “No? You want me to stop then?” I still have my fingers inside her. I might lose my mind if she says yes.

“I want to come over your cock. Please—Oh!”

So that is her game, is it?

“You don’t get to control this, Betsy. You have controlled everything else.” I begin to pump my fingers in and out again, catching her clit with my palm every time I fully penetrate her. “Forcing me to fuck you when I was trying to do the right thing.” Defiance rising inside me. This lass has got me wrapped around her finger.

I need to claw some control back.

“If I want you to come like this, you will.” She will come again, after, and around my cock.

“Please, Heath! I want to feel you inside you. Oh, please don’t make me come like this…”

It is too late; I am on a mission. Her eyes roll back in her head, and she emits the filthiest moan. She turns utterly rigid. Her pussy clamps over my fingers, and a heavy gush floods out.

Her face is a picture of torment and lust. I could watch her climaxing all day.

She comes down from her theatrics, all limp and sated in my arms. My lips curl up in a smirk. I slide the fingers out and stuff them into my mouth. Damn, she tastes good.

“I’m going to need a proper taste,” I say. “Next time.”

I am getting ahead of myself but can’t pull myself back. My cock has got a mind of its own. I wipe the last of her cum from my fingers over my length and point my dick upward between us.

“Sit on it,” I say.

Betsy

The little warning voice in the back of my head says this is not the end game I am hoping for, that Heath is still a man with deep reservations.

I push that voice down. I have fallen for this man. Tonight represents the culmination of every dream and hope I have ever had.

Tomorrow is for regrets. Tonight, there is only him.

I tell myself that this is the opening I have been waiting for, one that will lead to a deeper understanding between us. And although it breaks me, for I sense the lie, I cling to it anyway.

I rise onto my knees, uncaring that they dig into the hard wooden bench. I don’t care about anything but getting him inside me and where I know it will feel so good. I close my hand around his length, lift up, and put him where I need. Then I sink slowly, feeling the stretch as he fills me all up until his flesh is one with mine, and I feel him in my very soul.

A sob breaks from my chest. My inner walls clamp and flutter around him.

He tightens his arms around me. “Hush, sweet lass,” he says. “Am I hurting you? Do you need to stop?”

I curse the stupid male. “You are not hurting me. Do not dare stop. I swear I will liberate you of your balls if you try to take my prize away.”

He chuckles, a low husky sound, and I love that I am the one who caused it.

“It feels a blissful level of good to have you inside me. It will feel better if you loosen your hold enough so I can move.”

“Aye,” he says gruffly. His hands are shaking where they hold me. But mine are, too, where they are wrapped around his neck.

His lips find the crook of my shoulder and throat—his beard tickles.

“You feel fucking amazing,” he says before his voice lowers to a whisper. “You feel like home.”

A tear trickles down my cheek. I brush it away before he can notice.

I want to believe this means as much to him as it does to me. This is not just a quick tumble. Not in my eyes, anyway.

He clasps his arm tighter around me and slowly lifts me up and then down.

“Oh Goddess,” I say. My pussy grips him so tightly that it is a toss between pleasure and pain. He has a beautiful, thick, cock and it feels like he touches me everywhere. “I’m going to come.”

“Go ahead, lass. I’m going to be right behind you.”

He thrusts me off and on him, lifting me as though I’m naught but a doll and not a hale beta woman with ample curves. He takes me with ease, making our flesh slap together, and my breasts bounce. Sparks of pleasure shoot all the way through my core.

“Gods, you are so beautiful,” he says thickly. “Beautiful and lusty with a hot, tight pussy that is greedy for my cock.”

He speaks true, my pussy is greedy for him.

I am on top. I should be the one taking command. Only he doesn’t give me a chance, and I love it. His immense strength is evidenced by the way he slams me on and off his cock.

The emotions and sensations swirl together. I am a vessel for his lust. One taking pleasure for herself. One claiming her dues. I love this man. I have loved him for a long time. A young girl’s infatuation that has become so much more. I even love that he resists me, for in his eyes, he is noble and trying to protect both our hearts.

But my heart is my own, and I have already given it to him gladly and without reservations.

I give it with gratitude, for there was a time when I was taken prisoner when I might have been ripped from my loving home and life and my freedom gone.

His teeth scrape lightly against my throat. The quickening sensation inside tells me he is close, sparking a new thrill.

I want him to come inside me. I would give everything to carry his child within me.

How I want him to feel all I do.

A climax so powerful it robs me of breath slams into me. My pussy falls into sweet, heavenly waves. He growls and stills, whispering words I cannot quite hear against my throat.

I swear I feel his essence join with mine as his hot seed fills me all up.

Our gusty breaths make a cloud in the air. Sweat cools against the surface of my skin.

He lifts his head from my throat and cups my cheek. And then he kisses me. And as if I am not already utterly smitten with him, that sweet, hot kiss brimming with emotion and poignancy is my utter undoing.

He lifts his head slowly, his lips breaking from mine. Our eyes meet, and I see so much emotion and understand little.

“Thank you, Betsy,” he says, the formal version of Heath once more in place.

I want to make demands. To tell him how I feel.

But we are in a changing room beneath the underground fighting club, and I recognize this is not the time. That worse, coming to find him here, letting him fuck me like this, will only reinforce the version of Betsy that I wear like a shield.

A saucy smile blooms upon my face as I call upon the Betsy he knows well and push down—for now—the woman who would give everything to be his wife. “The pleasure was all mine.”