SWNOVELS Pump Two: Chapter 6
and we surge through the trees until we emerge onto a main road. I let out a breath of relief, which is interrupted when a siren suddenly sounds from behind us.
I turn to see a cop car tailing us. Devon also looks over his shoulder and shakes his head in what looks to be annoyance rather than fear. All my doubts prior to going to this race play on a loop through my head, and I feel like my hesitance to come in the first place is biting me in the ass.
Body tense, Devon leans forward and accelerates. I bury my face into his back and open my eyes when I feel the bike tilt low before straightening again.
The bike moves like that several times, my adrenaline rising with each dip. Devon quickly puts distance between us and the cop car, which can’t keep up with the bike’s speed.
He makes a right down a narrow path that’s too tight for a car. The turn is so sharp that dirt kicks up against my leg as Devon uses his foot to help us pivot.
We continue down the forest trail, and Devon turns off the engine as soon as we’re far enough from the main road. As if rehearsed, he lifts me off the bike and shoves it into a ditch.
“What—” I barely begin my question because Devon grabs me. We follow the bike down a steep decline until we’re nestled out of sight. He lays me on top of him and holds me tight against his front, the position uncomfortable with a bulky helmet on.
I feel a little nauseous, unable to stop shaking. Devon rubs my arm as if attempting to soothe me, my muscles aching from lying so stiff.
I hear loud footsteps above us, and I hold my breath. After what feels like ages, the words “too dark” and “not worth it” are muffled before fading as if the people talking are moving away. I don’t move an inch until we hear a car driving off.
Devon slowly untangles himself from me and helps me up, placing me gently on a nearby log. Whilst he goes to grab his bike, I take off my helmet and suck in a deep breath.
Holy shit.
“You okay?” I ask Devon, who has also taken his helmet off. I walk up to him and place a hand on his back. He stiffens at my touch and turns to me once the bike is propped up.
“I would’ve killed Isaac if he touched you,” he seethes. What? Where is this coming from?
“You’re thinking about that douchebag when we nearly just got caught by the cops?” I ask, breathing out an exasperated laugh.
“Yes, is that a problem?” His tone is condescending, as if my confusion isn’t justified. Now, I’m also angry. My anger is combined with every other intense emotion that has been bubbling at the surface since I entered that abandoned runway.
I’d even argue that I’ve been brewing since Devon and I’s kiss, though I felt much less hostile than this.
“Yes, it is a problem because you’re acting like this when I don’t even know you!” I shout, the volume of my voice increasing by the last word.
Birds fly out of some nearby trees, and Devon just looks at me in silence through his mask. His eyes are unreadable, concealing any trace of emotion. Why does that make me angrier?
I can’t even look at him to decipher his reaction because I can’t see his face with his stupid mask on. The only thing I’m sure about is that Devon’s mad about some guy called Isaac because he moved a little closer to me than he would’ve preferred.
“Feel better now?” he asks with a voice that is annoyingly calm. His response being another question sends me over the edge. With the stress of tonight, my words escape me.
“Why are you upset that Isaac spoke to me? He didn’t even touch me, Devon. I think this is all becoming too much.” His eyes cut to mine, confusion settling in his gaze through the fabric of his ski mask. “We barely know each other. I don’t even know what you look like.”
I start pacing, my feet crunching against the dried leaves and twigs on the forest floor.
“I almost got caught by the cops. I mean, shit, I don’t know why I thought this was a good idea. I don’t think I was even thinking.” I feel frustrated. Partly at Devon, but mostly at myself. “You’re practically a stranger,” I say, ending my short tangent.
Devon watches me like one would assess a feral animal before deciding to approach it. It’s obvious that the adrenaline hasn’t left my body.
He closes his eyes slowly, trying to compose himself. “It wasn’t me following you home that was the line?”
“This was the wake-up call, you’re still a stranger.”
He exhales loudly and strides toward me, yanking me into his body. The heat of his hand radiates against where he holds the nape of my neck, his lips providing a similar warmth as they rest against my ear.
“Let me ask you something, Violet. You’d let a stranger kiss you at work?”
“Well, no but—”
“You’d let a stranger pick you up at midnight to take you to an illegal race? You could’ve stayed home.” I could’ve, but I didn’t.
“I just—”
“You place an awful lot of trust in a stranger, Sweetness.” My body is tight, and Devon’s hand circles the front of my throat. A firm, yet gentle grasp on my neck that causes me to suck in a shaky breath.
I like the feel of his hand secured around my throat. It’s not violent or scary…it’s erotic and possessive. A firm hold that mimics the one he has on my volition.
“This isn’t me, all of this is reckless,” I argue weakly, leaning into his touch.
“I don’t think I’m a stranger to you, Violet. I can see the way your thighs clench and release as if they don’t ache to wrap around my head every time you hear my voice.”
Devon’s thumb rubs up and down my throat, trailing the movement of the muscles as I painfully swallow in response to his words.
I have nothing left to argue.
We could go back and forth all day, battling between my desires and my doubts.
It’s not just that he has a point, but I have the stark realization that compared to the first time we met, he’s more of a friend than a stranger.
He’s somebody that knows me, knows my body, and knows how much I want him. My denial is futile, but fighting against my feelings makes me feel like I have some sort of control.
Devon clicks his tongue in thought.
“Sure, you’re being a little reckless…but it’s all been your choice, hasn’t it?” He pauses when I don’t respond. “You know what? Why don’t I take those choices away from you for a little while? I’ll show you something reckless right now, but it’ll be on my terms.”
I remain silent and he lets go of my neck, the cold air hitting the space his hand once occupied. Part of me wants to reach out and attach it permanently around my throat like a necklace.
“Straddle the bike,” he instructs. I hesitate slightly, not expecting him to ask that of me.
“I—”
“Straddle. It.” With arousal, denial, and adrenaline coursing through my veins, I’m moving like I’ve been hypnotized. I walk to the bike and straddle it. “Face me,” he orders. I follow the sound of his voice and spin so I’m still straddling the bike, my back facing the handles.
Devon walks up to me and runs his hands down my body, pushing on my shoulders so I’m leaning back on the bike. His hands brush over my nipples and my back arches. “Does this feel like a stranger’s touch to you?” I shake my head as his thumb runs lightly over my breasts again. “Speak to me.”
“You’re not a stranger, Devon.” He hums his approval and pinches my nipple, twisting it in a way that causes a delightful pain.
It elicits a gentle, fluttering sensation within my chest. That fluttering continues down my body and across the band of my pants, following the path of his fingers.
“Up,” he says.
“Up?” I breathe, lifting my head up to see what he’s talking about.
“Your hips. Up.” I do as he says and lift them.
In one swift movement, he yanks my pants and underwear down my legs. I gasp as the night air hits my bare skin. It cools the space between my legs—a space which his eyes seem to be glued to.
He walks around the bike like he’s analyzing me, my eyes following his movements as his weighty stride echoes through the woodland. He stops and crouches so that his eyes are level with my pussy.
“You’re already dripping…the only thing I’ve done is hold your neck. I haven’t even touched you here yet.”
He reaches out and rubs his finger lightly over my clit. I’m already so worked up that my hips jolt. I grip the leather of the seat to stabilize myself in fear that the more he touches me, the more likely I am to fall off the bike.
His finger moves to my hole and it enters me a little before retreating. Dragging my wetness over my clit, he circles it before dipping back into my pussy. My body heats as I’m worked up more and more.
Dip, stroke up, circle. Dip, stroke up, circle.
His rhythmic fingers build up my pleasure slowly, and I angle my hips so that he can reach the exact places I want him to. Until he stops.
I let out a shuddering breath and watch as he circles the bike again. He trails his finger across my lips like one would apply lipstick, spreading my arousal over my mouth. My tongue darts out, and I taste myself.
He gives me an approving nod as he lowers himself once again, this time crouching at my hip. His hand grabs my wrist and nudges my pointer finger to straighten it out. He gently shifts his hand to align it with mine, mirroring the placement of my finger.
With his pointer finger now resting on top of my own, he slides our hands down to my lower abdomen, skating down to my clit.
“Look, we’re working together like strangers,” he murmurs, throwing my earlier statement back into my face.
“Devon…” Instead of sounding like a warning, my tone lacks conviction and transforms into a moan.
“How nice, you know your stranger’s name.”
He circles us around my swollen pussy. I’m so wet that our fingers slip over me with ease.
My eyes water in pleasure, and I clamp my bottom lip down with my teeth to stop myself from moaning. Moving us faster over my swollen core, he pushes my hand away so he can massage the flats of four of his fingers over me.
Tension builds and the wetter I get, the faster he moves. My hips lift up, my pussy adhering to his hand like a magnet. I moan and shake, body clenching as my orgasm washes over me.
I’m draped haphazardly over the bike, and I don’t have time to reposition myself because Devon lightly swats my still-sensitive clit. I buck so hard that I almost slide off the seat.
With my body hanging off the bike, my head lolls, and my long hair now rests on the forest floor. I have to grab onto the handles to stop myself from slipping off completely.
“Not done yet, Sweetness.”
“I can’t,” I whimper.
“You will.”
Now weak from my orgasm, my hand unlatches from the handles. As I’m about to fall, Devon lifts me up and repositions me back onto the bike. He strokes my clit with one finger again and I gasp, covering it with my hands.
Devon bends down to my pussy and places my hands in front of his face, lifting the bottom half of his mask to free his mouth.
My hands obscure his face, and I can’t see anything besides what I usually see when he has his ski mask on. If I move them, I will be able to see the bottom half of his face.
It’s like he’s giving me the power to reveal him.
A power that I refuse to take advantage of by keeping my hands exactly where they are.
“Interesting,” Devon purrs.
I watch him lower his face until it’s obscured by my thighs. He dips down so his lips graze my wet center, and I place my hands on his head, his face still unrevealed to me.
I don’t care about his face right now because with one long swipe of his tongue, he tastes me. I shake from a combination of the cool wind, his mouth and residual sensitivity from my previous orgasm.
I sigh in pleasure when he buries his face into me and focuses his tongue solely on my clit.
He alternates between sucking and licking. I can tell that he’s listening carefully to the sounds I make to decide how to use his mouth against my most sensitive spot.
“If this is how wet you get for a stranger, you must be drowning the men you know,” he says from between my legs.
I want to tell him that there are no other men and that he’s the only person who makes me this wet, but my tight throat prevents my words from sounding.
A thick finger suddenly enters me and I let out a loud whine. He laps at me, my clit bumping against his nose. I look down to where Devon is and meet mossy, green eyes that are trained on me.
He moans into me, and I try to move my hips so I can bring myself to release again. His hands hold me still and he squints at me in warning, digging his fingers into my thighs. His digit curls inside of me and my head falls back. Blood rushes to it, making me more lightheaded than I already am.
“Suck,” I rasp. “Yes! Circle it and suck…oh my god…more, Devon.”
“Would you fuck a stranger’s face like this, Violet?”
“No,” I whimper, my thighs trembling and squeezing his head.
“Louder.”
“No!” I shout. I don’t know what he wants from me. Is he trying to get me to convince myself that he’s not a stranger?
I don’t think I’d even be in a position to deny it after this.
“Scream it, Sweetness. I want you so loud that the cops will know exactly where we are. Would you fuck a stranger’s face like this?”
“NO!” I bellow and let out a sob of complete elation as I topple over the edge for the second time. My nails dig into Devon’s scalp through the mask, and he doesn’t stop sucking me until I stop twitching. I breathe hard, trying to catch my breath. Devon instantly elevates my head, holding it up until he’s sure I won’t fall back again.
It takes me a while until my breathing returns to normal and I can sit up on my own.
Devon has readjusted the bottom half of his ski mask like it had never been moved. I jerk once more when he swipes his fingers over my pussy and holds them up to me. His eyes lock onto mine. My cum gleams between his fingers before they disappear under his mask. Then, he moans as he tastes me. Not a small noise of satisfaction…a low, guttural moan.
I expect to feel embarrassed, even mortified. But I feel nothing of the sort.
Instead, I feel a carnal longing—as if I want more. With or without the mask, I want Devon to ruin me in the best way possible.
Devon’s hand reaches around to grip the back of my head, halting me as I begin to stand. He brings his face close to mine. Close enough that I can smell the hint of mint and my own arousal on his breath, but not close enough that I can taste it.
“Lick it off,” he rumbles, his voice almost inaudible.
Devon points to the bike seat which shows my wet release glistening on the dark leather. He’s got to be joking. His eyes do nothing but harden, and I press my legs together. He’s not joking—fuck.
Devon lightly pulls my hair, and I bend over the seat. I’m taunted by the wet patch less than an inch away from my nose. My hesitation causes Devon to maintain his hold on my hair and lower himself until his eyes are level with mine.
“We can’t ride home on a dirty seat, Violet,” he says as if trying to convince me that licking myself off his seat would be beneficial to both of us. Unbeknownst to him, I am more than willing to do this.
My nails dig into the edge of the leather. With my eyes squeezed shut, I stick out my tongue and swipe it over the seat. I hope my face doesn’t show how much I’m enjoying this.
“All of it,” he demands. I nod, licking the seat with more enthusiasm. “Mmm, isn’t that delicious?” I ignore him and he clutches my hair a little harder in warning. This causes my scalp to tingle.
“Delicious,” I utter. I don’t know what to think, or how to feel. Am I disgusted? Excited? I don’t have time to overthink it because Devon pulls me up gently and swipes his thumb across my lips. As if conditioned to do so, I suck his thumb.
“Good girl,” he praises.
I guess I am a good girl.
A good girl that went to an illegal bike race, engaged in a police chase, and enjoyed it when a stranger wrapped his hand around her throat. A good girl that also came all over his bike and licked up her own bodily fluid off the seat.
I’m such a good girl.
I don’t know how this escalated so quickly. I’m beginning to think that I’m not even trying to prevent things from happening between us. I like to imagine that it’s my mind saying no and my body saying yes, but we both know that’s not true.
There’s not one part of me that is saying no.
I silently move off the bike and get dressed with Devon watching me. If I had a list of things to do before I die, going to an illegal event, getting chased by cops, and public indecency would all be checked off in the space of a few hours. I can’t tell if Devon is a bad influence or not.
If he is, I don’t seem to mind.
At all.