His cock springs free, thick and hard, veins pulsing along its length, the tip already glistening with pre-cum.
God, it's bigger than I imagined during all those stolen glances on the trail, and the sight of it—standing proud for me—sends a fresh wave of heat throbbing between my legs. I’m immediately soaked as I stare, mesmerized.
My mouth waters, and my core clenches in anticipation. God, I've imagined this, fantasized about how he'd feel, but seeing him like this—vulnerable position, yet radiating control—it's intoxicating.
"Climb on and show me how much you want this," he says, his voice a gravelly command as he guides me over him, the head of his cock teasing my slick entrance.
I lower myself slowly, savoring the stretch as he fills me, inch by throbbing inch, a gasp escaping me at the exquisite burn. The sensation is overwhelming—full, perfect, like he was made for me. But even as I start to rock my hips, finding a rhythm, he takes over.
His hands lock onto my ass, dictating the pace, pulling me down harder onto him.
"Fuck, I've wanted my cock buried in this tight little pussy since I first glassed you on that ridge," he growls, eyes locked on mine, dark and possessive. "Watched you moving like that, all fire and curves, and all I could think was how I'd bend you over right there in the dirt, spread those legs wide, and slam into you deep and hard, owning every moan until you screamed my name for the whole damn valley to hear."
His hips buck as I bottom out on his cock.
"Or shove you down to your knees in the grass, gripping your hair to guide your mouth over my cock, making you take me all the way while I tell you how good you look choking on what belongs to me. Hell, I'd pin you hard against a tree, your palms flat on the bark as I thrust into you from behind, relentless and rough, claiming you so completely that you'd never forget who you belong to, coming undone only when I say so."
Heat floods my cheeks, but it's not embarrassment—it's arousal, pure and scorching, making me grind down harder on him, my slick walls fluttering at the vivid, commanding images he's painting.
God, he's been thinking about me like that? Filthy, dominant thoughts that match the wild man I glimpsed on that hike?
My thoughts scatter. It turns me on more than I expected, the way his words paint these raw, explicit pictures—me on my knees for him, his hands pinning me down, claiming every part of me. I moan, my nails digging into his shoulders, careful of his bandages, but he doesn't flinch.
Instead, he laughs again, that deep, rumbling sound that makes my walls flutter around him.
"I imagined our first time together as something far more vigorous than you riding me," he says, thrusting up into me with a sharp snap of his hips that hits deep, making stars burst behind my eyelids. "But I like this—watching you take me, your tits bouncing, that pretty face all flushed."
"God, don't stop talking like that," I gasp, my voice breathy and desperate, leaning down to nip at his jaw as I roll my hips in response, chasing the friction.
His words are like fuel to the fire already raging inside me, his filthy mind turning me on in ways I never expected—raw, unfiltered, and so damn possessive.
He grins up at me, that wicked, knowing flash of teeth that makes my pulse stutter, clearly encouraged by my plea, his eyes darkening with fresh heat as he tightens his grip on my ass.
"Been imagining pinning you against a tree, slamming into you from behind, feeling you clench around me while the wind whips around us. Or better yet, tying your hands with my belt, making you beg for every inch."
A soft moan escapes my lips at his words, the imagery searing into my brain—me helpless and wanting, at his mercy underthe stars—and I can't help but grind down harder, taking him deeper, my inner walls pulsing around his thick length as slick heat coats us both.
"Yes... like that," I whisper, my voice husky with need, my nails digging into his shoulders as I ride him faster, the confession drawing me in even more, making me ache for the reality of his dominance.
He realizes it instantly, that hungry glint in his eyes sharpening as he watches my face contort in pleasure, feels the way I tighten around him, my body betraying just how much his raw talk turns me on.
It's written all over his expression—that smug, alpha satisfaction—as his hands slide up my back, one tangling in my hair while the other flexes on my hip, urging me on with a low, approving rumble in his chest.
"Fuck, you like that, don't you?" he murmurs, his voice a gravelly tease, testing the waters as his thumb brushes the edge of my hipbone, dipping toward where we're joined. "With my belt... I could loop it around your wrists, hold you steady while I fuck you senseless. Or wrap it once around your waist, yank you back onto me harder when you start to squirm, making sure you feel every thrust like it's yours to earn."
His words ignite me, each filthy fantasy stoking the fire in my veins. I ride him faster, chasing the building pressure, but he's still the one in charge—his thumb finds my clit, rubbing in firm circles that have me whimpering, his other hand in my hair, tugging my head back to expose my throat.
His words send a fresh wave of heat coiling low in my belly, the promise of restraint and control making my thighs tremble as I lift and slam down onto him again, the slick sounds of our bodies meeting filling the air.
"More," I breathe out, almost a plea, my head falling back as pleasure builds, his thickness stretching me perfectly, hitting that spot inside that makes my vision blur.
I love how he's pushing these boundaries, his voice wrapping around me like a command I can't resist.
He chuckles darkly, the sound vibrating through his chest and into me, his free hand coming up to cup my breast, thumb circling my nipple roughly before pinching just hard enough to draw a gasp from my lips.
"Greedy girl," he rasps, his eyes devouring the way I arch into his touch.
My rhythm falters as a whine slips free, my body on fire with the need to submit to every filthy scenario he's weaving.
