Brock bared his teeth, realizing when he showed his anger that his outward display of fury had seemingly amused Cash.
“I see you haven’t changed much since you’ve been on the inside.” Brock pushed by Mitch. “You’re still harboring convicts like before.”
“Brock! Come on now. Cash was kidding. Can’t we all just get along?”
Without a break in stride, Brock said, “No, Mitch, I really don’t think so.”
* * * *
Trixie placed her hands on Rory’s shoulders and guided him straight through Mitch’s suite and right out the back door.
“What are you up to?” Rory asked.
“Shh.” She took the lead and hurried toward the cabins. “I want to show you something.”
“You do, huh?” Rory slapped her bottom. “Are you in dire need of a little TLC?”
“I love an intuitive man,” Trixie said, eyeing the rustic accommodations.
The huts all looked the same, but Trixie remembered which cabin had been hers and that’s precisely where she wanted to be when she took advantage of her last opportunity to fuck at leisure, come at will.
“Does this have anything to do with Brock calling you his sub back there?” Rory asked.
“Everything,” she replied, shaking her hips as she bounced over the steps and entered the cabin she’d once called her own.
To her surprise, it looked pretty much the same as before. The bottom bunk appeared to have the same thin mattress covering an uneven slab of wood for support. The top bunk housed a lone piece of plywood which was where she’d stored her belongings when she’d been a counselor there.
A lopsided medicine cabinet hung over the sink. The door leading to the bathroom was off its hinges, but overall, the place looked clean and tidy.
Rory sat on the bed. “Bertie and Claude kept the cabins neater than we did when we were living here.”
Trixie straddled him. Uninterested in housekeeping issues, she crossed her arms and tugged her shirt over her head.
“My goodness, somebody is horny.” Rory cupped her nape and assaulted her lips.
“Are you complaining?”
“Not at all.”
Taking a greedy kiss, she thrust her tongue into the hot recess of his mouth. “Make love to me, Rory.” Grinding against the hard outline of his swollen cock, she wished for a thrashing fuck.
Time was of the essence all things considered. She’d watched a full transformation in Brock and knew what his exposed desires meant. The lifestyle wasn’t foreign to her. Considering her insatiable appetite, she needed to whet her whistle one last time before she forfeited all control.
Rory grabbed a handful of hair and pulled her head back. “Why do I have the feeling another man worked you up for me?”
She moistened her lips and attacked his, twirling her tongue between his lips as she loosened several buttons on his shirt. “You can work me up now, baby.”
Switching positions, he stretched out between her legs and kissed his way down to her breasts, his tongue sweeping past one nipple before clamping down on the other. Ragged breaths resounded as he stripped her pajamas away from her body, unhooked his belt, and loosened his jeans.
She reached down the length of their bodies, pumping him, feeling him swell in her hand. At the same time, he thrust his fingers inside her pussy, using a precise scissor motion as he worked for a deeper thrust, penetrating her higher as she spread her legs wider.
“Rory,” she whispered, clutching his head to her chest and throwing her hips forward. “Give me what I need.”
Rory nipped at her lips. “Want and need a quickie, do you?”
“Yes.” She raked her fingernails down his shirt sleeve. “God yes, honey.”
Without any further coaxing, he threw his weight forward, impaling her with one hard jolt. Buried to the hilt, he gripped the ledge above the bed and worked his cock deep inside her trembling walls, the quivering vibrations already there as she tried to withstand the easy way out—the quick orgasm that would leave her shattered, but far from fulfilled.
Rory pushed her knee forward and stared down at her. “You feel so good, baby.”
“You ain’t half bad yourself,” she teased, stretching her neck as he retreated and reentered her once more. “Ah, Rory. Like that. Right like that.”
He came over her again, his arm tightening next to her head as he plunged inside her again, fucking her with a high-handed effort, refusing to give her all of him, but stroking her just enough to make her burn.
Her desire for him resonated through her body. She held him closer, thinking of the times they’d fucked here before, the first time he’d taken her, the way they’d made love without protection when she’d pushed him to his limits, begged him to fuck her, and dared him to leave her unsatisfied.