She gasps, head tipping back, throat bared. My mouth finds it instantly, sucking, biting, branding her with every mark. Her nails rake my chest, my stomach, down to my cock—her hand wraps around me, squeezing, stroking, perfect, holy.
I’m gone.
Fucking gone.
“You’ll never leave me again,” I snarl, thrusting up into her hand, my voice wrecked. “Say it.”
She shudders, hips rolling, hair wild around her face. “Never,” she cries, the word breaking. “Never again.”
The tent flickers back—beeping, shouting, blood. But her mouth is still on mine. Her cunt is still squeezing me. Her voice is still screaming my name.
And I don’t know if I’m alive or dead, dreaming or burning.
All I know is her.
My Butterfly.
Her body is fire on top of me.
She’s grinding down like she’s trying to tear the soul out of me, and maybe she is—maybe that’s what I deserve. Her nails dig into my chest, sharp enough to draw blood, and I buck up hard, forcing her cunt to take every inch.
“God, Dax—” her voice splits on my name, half sob, half moan, the sweetest fucking hymn I’ve ever heard.
“You feel that?” My hand fists in her hair, yanking her head back so she can’t look anywhere but me. “That’s me inside you. Owning you. Burning you alive.”
She gasps, legs shaking, but her hips don’t stop. She rides me harder, faster, like she’s starving. Like she’s punishing.
“I hate you,” she pants again, tears sliding hot down her cheeks.
My teeth catch her throat, biting until she cries out. “Then hate me while you cum all over my cock.”
Her walls squeeze, flutter, pulse—my vision whites out, my breath a snarl. I slam my hips up, deeper, harder, pounding into her until the air crackles. Until I can’t tell if it’s her screaming or me.
“Say it,” I snarl against her ear, every thrust brutal. “Say you’re mine. Say this pussy is mine.”
She’s trembling, sobbing, begging without words. My fingers find her clit, rubbing rough, merciless, dragging her closer. “Say it or I’ll keep you here forever.”
Her nails carve into my shoulders. Her head snaps back. And finally—finally—she breaks.
“It’s yours!” she screams. “Fuck, Dax—it’s only yours!”
Her release crashes through her, violent, shaking, soaking me. And I go with her, roaring into her mouth as I spill inside, grinding so deep she can’t breathe without me.
The tent flickers.
The beeping spikes.
Her face blurs, her body flickers, her voice fades into static and I’m left gasping, trembling, cock still pulsing into emptiness, hands clutching at a ghost that isn’t really there.
I’m still buried inside her when the world tilts.
Her cunt’s pulsing, clenching around me like she’s trying to hold me in, her nails dug so deep into my shoulders they’ll scar. My chest heaves. My head tips back. My name is spilling from her mouth over and over—raw, cracked, perfect?—
And then the sound shifts.
The rhythm breaks.
Not moans.
