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Shock barreled through me the moment his slickened fingertips pressed against my most shameful place. I froze, but then he forced a single finger inside my bottom hole before I could do anything to stop it. My muscles clenched around him, and cruel, sweet agony radiated deep in my core.

I screeched.

He pumped that single thick finger in and out of my tight ring ruthlessly.

It hurt. It felt wonderful. At a punishing pace, he fucked my asshole with his finger so hard that the friction caused a burning sensation deep inside.

I tried to squirm forward and escape him, but he didn’t let me.

His other hand grasped the side of my hip, holding me in place so that he could punish me more mercilessly than before.

I cried out. I moaned.

My hips rocked, trying to escape him, and inadvertently rubbing my clit against the rough blanket beneath me.

He moved faster, in and out, more punishing and more terrible, and my body reacted in kind. Vicious heat spiraled through my system with ruthless abandon, and nothing would make it stop. My pussy grew even wetter, tighter, more desperate, my need greater, and a sound escaped me like strangled moan.

I shouldn’t like this. I shouldn’t want to come like this. Having his finger in my bottom was wrong, wasn’t it? It felt dirty and wicked and entirely too taboo, but I wanted more of it.

I should want it to stop, but I didn’t.

When I opened my mouth, I told myself I was going to tell him this was wrong, but those are not the words I spoke.

“Please… Harder ,” I begged.

“Such a bad little girl. Are you going to come for me?”

My entire body shuddered with raw need. His finger pumped inside me faster.

It hurt, but it aroused me even more. My body started moving of its own accord.

Rising onto my toes and arching my back lewdly, I rode the tree, imagined it was his cock, rocking my hips back and forth in a way that teased my clit enough to drive me wild.

I growled and roared, rising higher and higher until I finally teetered on the edge.

“Come hard, my bad little girl.”

My body rocketed into orgasm as if his words had been all I’d needed all along. My core imploded, squeezing so tight that I screamed.

I came so hard that I saw stars.

I tried not to think that it was because his finger was in my ass, but I failed. My inner walls clenched hard, almost as if they were frustrated that another hole was being filled instead.

Blinded by white-hot bliss, my legs trembled. In front of me, my fingers dug into the tree trunk, clawing for balance and support. My hips writhed back and forth, practically riding his fingers as I came for him.

When my orgasm finally began to fade, I slumped over the tree.

“Thank you, sir,” I whispered, enjoying the buzzing satisfaction as it made its way through every limb.

“We’re not done, bad girl,” he demanded.

He swirled his fingers through his cold ejaculate again, coating their length, then harshly forced two fingers up inside my ass.

I screamed, but he didn’t stop. He shoved them into me relentlessly until they were in as far as they could go, then he pulled them all the way out and pushed them in again, twisting them as he plunged inside.

At once, the burning stretch caught me off guard. It was hot, terrible, and so wrong.

“Wait! I already came,” I begged, gasping. I hadn’t expected him to keep going. Was he not going to stop now?

His other hand slipped beneath me, cupping my overly sensitive clit.

Overwhelming sensation hurtled through me, and I tried to lift my pussy away from his hand, but I only succeeded in taking his fingers deeper in my bottom.

I whimpered, the burning stretch hurting more than before.

My muscles tightened reflexively, which only made the cruel agony worse.

I tried to force myself to relax, but it was impossible no matter how hard I tried.

Eventually, the pain crested, and I sucked in a breath. What was happening?

“Bad girls come the hardest when their tightest hole is sore,” he warned.

A spike of fear drove through me straight down to my clit.

His fingers danced over my pussy with merciless intent.

I couldn’t escape them. No matter how I squirmed, lifted my hips, or rocked or twisted, his fingers were there inside a place they weren’t supposed to be, ramming mercilessly deep, over and over.

Real fear simmered deep inside my core. I knew that he’d made me come more than once before, but this time felt different.

This next orgasm was going to be a part of my punishment. I whimpered at the realization and then he fucked me with his fingers even more fiercely. I yelled. My orgasm rose unabated, and I shuddered. It was like waiting for a tornado to hit knowing there was nowhere to hide.

It started in the tips of my toes, rolling up through my legs. When it finally crashed into me, it exploded outward and every muscle in my body went rigid.

I couldn’t escape his fingers on my clit. With almost rabid intensity, they glided over my clit, intensifying the already paralyzing excitation of that needy little bundle of nerves.

I screamed.

My body clenched tight, causing fierce volleys of agony to radiate around the abused ring of muscle clamped around Ryker’s fingers. He didn’t stop fucking my bottom. Somehow, it got faster, hotter, and more painful, and that made me come that much harder.

He’d been right.

Euphoria the likes of which I’d never yet known took hold of me. I arched my back, took his fingers deeper, riding his hand harder in the process. I screamed and moaned, writhing as wave after wave of painful pleasure crashed into me.

There was no escaping even a second of powerful ecstasy like this. Delicious pain seared through me. I suffered through it as much as I enjoyed it.

I closed my eyes, trying to keep myself together. Suddenly, I felt like I was falling, and I gasped, losing myself in the endless chasm of merciless, passionate sensation. There was no fighting it.

A tear dripped down my cheek. Another followed, and finally, the tears I’d held in for so long poured forth.

I wasn’t sure why I was crying. All I knew was that it wasn’t just from the pain, but maybe from the soul-shattering intensity of coming so hard, or maybe it was the cumulative effect of everything he’d put me through during this punishment.

His hands finally withdrew from my tortured body as I started to sob in earnest. Then his protective arms were around me, cocooning me in their strength and warmth and lifting me off the shameful log.

He sat down in my place and gathered me in his lap.

I curled into his chest, pressing my tear-streaked face into the crook of his neck and just cried.

The warmth of his embrace surrounded me, letting me know that it was all over and that I was safe now.

My clit pounded hard at the thought.

“I’m so sorry. Please forgive me,” I whispered, my voice hoarse.

“I forgave you the moment I found you at the bridge,” he answered softly.

The quiet rumble of his voice was comforting, and I curled up even closer against his chest, my feet on his thigh, my legs pressed to my own chest. His arms squeezed tighter, and I sighed with deep happiness when his palm cupped the back of my head.

My heart throbbed with feeling for this man.

I wrapped an arm around his neck, digging my fingers into him unintentionally.

“I’m glad you came after me,” I whispered, feeling raw and vulnerable and open in a way I’d never felt with anyone before.

“I am too, my sweet girl,” he whispered back.