Baz continues to stretch me until his fingers move freely against the muscle. It hurts and it doesn’t. The bouts of pleasure chase away the waves of pain.
The gravelly, gruff sounds starting to vibrate from Baz alert me he’s ready for more. Ready for the next level.
“I can’t stand it anymore, Stevie. I need to be inside you.” He rises to his knees with a possessed look in his eye. It’s similar to the look he first had when I woke up in this cabin. But it’s nowhere near as dangerous or worrisome. It’s driven by heroin-pure lust, voracious need, and unbridled want.
He doesn’t withdraw his hand as he grabs for the lube bottle. He handles it awkwardly as he’s not a lefty, but manages to pop the top and slather the clear, slick substance all over his cock. It’s like a steel rod protruding from between his legs. Unbendable and unforgiving.
We both breathe raggedly but for different reasons.
Baz finally withdraws his fingers, and I feel the muscles of my ass immediately contract. Shit.
“Stevie, stay with me.” He must see the apprehension on my face. “We’ll go slow, baby.” He places his hands on my knees as our eyes connect. I nod. I trust him.
He pushes my legs up and out, drawing my butt slightly off the floor. “Hold yourself like this.”
I wrap my hands around my shins and stay in place, intoxicated butterflies in my stomach and a flock of drunk birds in my chest.
Baz grips his slippery length and guides the head to my stretched entrance. “Breathe baby, I want you to breathe with me.” He covers my body with his, supporting himself on one arm. I feel the tip nudge against my rosebud, and I hold my breath. “Look at me, Stevie. Don’t take your eyes off me.” He pushes in, and the breach takes me by surprise. The head slides in easily. Way easier than I expected.
I release the air I’m holding hostage as Baz works his way inside. It’s a slow, drawn-out process.
Baz is shaking, fighting the urge to plow right into me. His cock hurts way more than his fingers, but it isn’t unbearable. Not like before. Not like when I was forced. I shake the thought out of my mind and stay with Baz.
“Shit, you’re so fucking tight.” He drops his head once he’s halfway inside.
“And you’re so big.”
“You’re good for my ego, baby.” His entire body is strung tight, like he’s petrified in a plank position.
I don’t know when or how the tables suddenly turn, but once he’s almost completely buried, my unease turns into impatience.
“Baz.” I fidget beneath him, running my hands crazily over his shoulders and down his back. Scratching my nails into skin as I gyrate my hips.
“Am I hurting you?” Baz pauses.
“No,” I force out. “I want you. More of you. Now.” I clasp his neck rigidly.
He lowers his chest to kiss me, claiming my mouth while he grabs under my right knee. Pushing forward, lifting my ass into the air more than it already is, he gives in, thrusting his cock the rest of the way.
I scream into his mouth, and we both freeze. It didn’t exactly hurt, but it wasn’t pleasant either. We pant in tandem, nose to nose, chest to chest, linked in the most biblical way.
“You’re fucking killing me. You feel so goddamn good.”
His cock twitches, and the sensation resonates through my entire body.
“Move,” I urge.
“I’m not going to last. I’m going to blow a load more catastrophic than the Hindenburg.”
“I can withstand it. Move, Baz, please just move.”
He complies, lifting his hips, easing in and out of me.
“Holy fuck.” It’s so raw. So visceral. Of all the ways we’ve fucked, this is the most primal. The most primitive. The most intrinsic.
Baz grunts barbarically as he moves, vicious, ferocious. It’s brutal, but a beautiful brutal. I rip out the elastic that is barely securing his hair and knot my fingers in the long, chestnut brown strands.
I hold on tight as we hit a stride, undulating against each other, using the sweat and friction of our skin as we seek out our release like bloodthirsty beasts.
