And I let him.
The forest seemed to hold its breath with us; the silence amplified by the crackling fire and the ragged sound of our breathing. Gently laying me on the forest floor, Jackson helped me remove the last vestige of my clothes, him quickly doing the same before he pulled me back onto his lap. Straddling him, with his arms wrapped tightly around me, he guided my head back to his as his lips once more found mine, sealing me to him as the fire crackled and flames burst into the night. Lost in his embrace, I gave myself to him under the moonlight, an offering to the wilderness surrounding us as his hands trailed down my back, cupping my ass, pulling me closer against his hard cock.
There under the stars, deep in the forest, nothing mattered. Only him as he ravished every inch of my exposed skin, my body writhing against him, needing more. I didn’t know where he began and I ended. All I knew was that we were one, the same soul in a world where nothing else mattered but us.
“Please, Jackson,” I choked out, my voice ragged, “I can’t take it anymore. I need you.” My plea was a desperate torrent, a confession of a longing that had simmered for too long. The night air, once cool and crisp, now hummed with an almostunbearable heat, the culmination of our shared journey from darkness to this incandescent moment. He felt it too, I knew, the raw, untamed need that pulsed between us, a primal force that had finally broken through the barriers of fear and restraint.
His breath hitched, and a low growl rumbled from his chest as his eyes burned with an intensity I recognized and craved. The firelight danced in their depths, reflecting the storm of emotions that raged within him, mirroring the tempest in my own soul. His touch, usually so deliberate, so measured, now held a desperate urgency, his fingers gripping my hips hard as I rolled them, desperate for him to be inside me.
His grip tightened, an implacable force drawing me into the crucible of his being. His raw, unyielding cock pressed against me, a stark contrast to the tremors that shook my own form. Each shared movement was a spark, igniting a wildfire within a desperate, consuming inferno that threatened to reduce us both to ashes. My body, a conduit of years of denied yearning, betrayed me as I lifted until I felt the head of his cock at my entrance, then slowly sank down. The exquisite ache as his cock stretched and claimed me was an ancient rhythm, a language spoken in need and surrender. Every deliberate thrust was a defiant roar against the specter of past torments, a reclaiming of what had been stolen. He met my desperate hunger, his arms a bulwark against the world, allowing me to purge my demons, the suffocating fear, the soul-deep anguish that had bound me for so long.
In the profound darkness, under the silent gaze of the stars above, I found more than just catharsis. I discovered a connection so potent, so unbreakable, it felt like the very fabric of existence had rewoven itself. This was not just passion; it was a love forged in the very heart of suffering, now finally, gloriously, unbound.
A cry tore from my throat as I rode his cock, a blissful sound of release. My body convulsed, washing away the last lingering vestiges of chains, setting me irrevocably free. Through it all, Jackson was my anchor, my fierce protector, his presence an unwavering constant. As my spent body sagged against his, his arms tightened, a possessive embrace as he lowered me back to the yielding forest floor, his cock still a hard, potent, throbbing testament, deeply seated within me.
His hands, calloused and insistent, cupped my face, a vise that somehow felt like salvation. Slowly, deliberately, his hips began to grind, a deep, relentless rhythm that plunged him deeper than I thought possible and stole the very air from my lungs. His mouth crashed against mine, a desperate seal that choked off the ragged whimpers threatening to tear from my throat. The force of his thrusting was a torrent, each one a hammer blow against the dam of my restraint. His breath, a ragged, guttural rasp, fanned across my skin, while his eyes, dark pools mirroring the storm raging between us, held me captive.
The damp, earthy scent of the forest, once a suffocating shroud of my confinement, now bloomed into a sacred perfume, the very incense of my awakening. With every brutal, beautiful surge, years of buried anguish, gnawing fear, and a desperate, unfulfilled ache were scoured from my being. A cleansing fire, fierce and untamed, licked through my veins, consuming the wreckage of my past.
A guttural cry tore from me, not of pain, but of a liberation so immense it fractured my very foundations. My body arched, a trembling testament to an ecstasy that was both a dizzying terror and a wild, exhilarating surrender. His arms and unyielding strength embraced me, pinning me to the welcoming earth, anchoring me as the chains of my own making finally shattered. As the tremors subsided, leaving me utterly spent, his cockremained a pulsing, throbbing testament, buried deep within, a molten core of the ferocious, primal pact we had forged.
Again, his hands framed my face, his gaze a burning brand, a silent inquiry echoing in the depths of his startling blue eyes.
I met his searing stare, the phantom ache of old wounds still a whisper on my soul, but no longer a defining scream. “I love you, Jackson.” My voice was a fractured thing, raw with disuse, yet laced with an unshakeable truth, a conviction I had never known I possessed. His smile, a rare and breathtaking luminescence, was all the fractured light I needed. It was a vow, an unspoken covenant etched into the very air between us as he began to move again, plunging deep into my pussy. He was ravenous, his own desire clawing its way up from his soul as the starry night twinkled and glistened above us. And when he grabbed my leg, pulling it up and over his hip, he thrust deeper, seating himself deep against my womb as his head reared back, and a guttural roar left his lips. Birds took flight, and the forest came alive as he emptied his seed deep into me, washing me in the very essence of him, claiming me for all to see.
The air ripped from my lungs in ragged gasps, and a strangled cry tore from my throat as he flipped me over, then pinned me against him, my spine a searing imprint against his unyielding chest. One arm snaked around my waist and held me captive, while the other, slick and purposeful, slid between us. Then, the sharp, insistent pressure as he rammed himself into my slick, desperate opening, his thrust deep, agonizingly slow. His free hand wound around to seize my breast, his fingers digging, kneading, as he continued his relentless rhythm from behind, each plunge a brutal claiming I was helpless to resist.
I twisted my head, a desperate plea for connection, my gaze locking with his as his mouth claimed mine, his tongue devouring my lower lip, a raw, possessive kiss. My own hands, drawn by an instinct I barely recognized, fumbled upwards,fingers tangling in his hair, a futile attempt to anchor myself in his storm as his hand around my waist descended, a tremor running through me at its destination. My body arched, a strangled sob escaping as his fingers found my clit. The moment he pinched, a white-hot explosion ripped through me, a scream that tore from the very depths of my being as my entire body convulsed, a tidal wave of moisture washing over him, hot and desperate, dripping between my legs, a testament to my loss of control.
My world tilted as I fell forward, and Jackson seized his moment. His grip on my hips tightened, a crushing, possessive embrace, as he ground himself against my raw, tender flesh. He buried himself deep, then withdrew, only to slam back in, each brutal impact a hammer blow against my already frayed senses. He was hungry, desperate as he thrust deeply into my body, his grip tightening on my hips as he pulled me back, ramming into me from behind.
Sweat broke out over my body as I gave in, laying my chest against the forest floor, arching my ass in a completely submissive pose. He growled, his hand resting between my shoulder blades, holding me firm as he pumped ravenously, his balls slapping hard against my sensitive clit. And just when I didn’t think I could endure anymore, he slammed forward and stilled, roaring out into the night once more as his cock pulsed deep inside me, releasing copious amounts of cum deep into my womb. Spent, he fell over me and rolled us both to our sides, his arms holding me close as he panted heavily against my neck.
“God, baby. You are going to kill me one of these days.”
“But not tonight, right?”
He chuckled, kissing my neck. “No, baby. Not tonight.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ravage
I fought to steady my breathing as I pressed my forehead to hers, our sweat mingling, our bodies still trembling from the storm we’d unleashed. But the heat of our passion couldn’t mask the urgency knotting in my jaw, a desperate plea warring with the overwhelming urge to bury myself in this moment, to pretend the world outside didn’t exist. My eyes, wild and haunted, searched hers for something I couldn’t say aloud, for absolution, for understanding, for a way to undo the rot that had festered around her for years. Finally, with a voice thick with dread, a voice that felt like it belonged to a stranger, I whispered, “Karlyn, there’s something you need to know. I can’t keep it from you anymore.” My words hung between us, heavy and electric, the night suddenly thick with secrets and the weight of revelation, a weight that felt like it was crushing the very air from my lungs.
“Can it wait?”
“No, baby, it can’t.” My words were a desperate clench in my gut. If I waited, if I let this fragile peace linger, I knew I would never find the courage to tell her. And I refused to betray her further by holding back the actual truth—the poison surrounding her.
“Alright then. Tell me.”
Pulling her closer to me, I held onto her tightly, a desperate anchor against the maelstrom churning within me. The truth was a jagged shard, and I had to decide whether to inflict it nowor live with the gnawing guilt of omission. I had to choose the lesser of two evils, a decision that felt like tearing myself in half. I hated this for her. “Karl Ingalls Sr. isn’t your father, baby.”
She sighed, a soft exhale that vibrated against my chest, and my heart plummeted.
“I know.”
Blinking, I pulled back, looking into her beautiful face, a mask of calm that felt like a cruel mockery of my internal chaos. I frowned, my disbelief a physical ache. “You knew?”
