He pushed those two slick fingers inside and I cried out, my hands flying to his shoulders. He was not gentle about it, stretching me as he sank to the second knuckle, and my pussy gripped him in a convulsive squeeze.
“So tight.” He drew his fingers back, then thrust them deeper, curling. His thumb found my clit and pressed in a slow circle. “You’re going to feel incredible when I bury my cock in this sweet little pussy.”
“Please—” The word fell out before I could stop it. I didn’t know what I was asking for. More. Everything.
“Please what?” His fingers curled against a spot that sent lightning forking through my pelvis. “Tell me what you need, Katie.”
He knew my name. Of course he did, he’d been at the hospital for a week, he’d probably heard it a dozen times. But hearing it in that deep, scraped-raw voice with my pussy milking his fingers and his cock branding my hip ignited something deep inside me.
“I need you to fuck me.”
I had approximately one second to register the blunt, hot pressure of his cock at my entrance before he drove forward in a single thrust that buried him to the hilt.
I almost came right then and there.
He was thick, thicker even than his fingers had promised, and my body scrambled to accommodate him, the burn of it so intense it teetered on the edge of pain. I locked my arms around his neck and pressed my forehead against his shoulder, my pussy slowly surrendering to the invasion.
He held still, and I could feel him pulsing inside me, the thick vein along the underside of his shaft throbbing against my clenched walls. Then he pulled halfway out and slammed back in, and the air punched from my lungs in a raw, harsh moan that echoed off the bare cabin walls.
“Fuck.” He bit the word against my neck. “You feel—” He didn’t finish. He just fucked me.
There was no gradual build. He set a rhythm that was hard and relentless, each thrust driving me up the rough wood until my shoulder blades scraped and my heels dug into the small of his back for purchase. The cabin filled with the slap of his hipsagainst my thighs, the wet sound of him pulling out and driving back in, and my own voice making sounds I didn’t recognize.
I’d had sex before. I’d had sex I thought was good. I’d had sex with men that had earned a solid seven out of ten and once, memorably, an eight. But this was something else. Something territorial and consuming and completely devoid of the polite restraint that characterized every sexual encounter I’d ever had.
He wasn’t asking. He wastaking, and every nerve in my body was screaming that being taken by this man was exactly what it had been waiting for.
“You’re mine.” He growled it against the side of my throat, teeth scraping but not biting, not yet, just reminding me how easily he could. “This pussy is mine. This body is mine. Say it.”
“I’m—” A particularly brutal thrust stole the rest. His cock bottomed out inside me, hit something deep and electric, and I arched off the wall with a wail. “I’m yours?—”
“Louder.”
“I’m yours! Oh God, please?—”
He adjusted his angle, hitching my hips higher, and the next thrust went deeper than I’d thought was possible. My cervix registered the assault with a sharp pulse that was half pain and half something darker, and I keened.
“I’m going to fill this tight little pussy until you’re dripping.” His pace was accelerating, his hips snapping forward with enough force that the wall shuddered behind me. “I’m going to pump you so full of my seed you’ll feel it for days.”
The wordseedshouldn’t have hit me that hard. It was just a word. But coming from his mouth, in that rough growl, while hiscock was buried inside me and his hands gripped my hips hard enough to mark, it detonated something low in my belly.
I was being bred.
“That’s it.” He’d felt me clench. Of course he had. I was squeezing him so hard my whole body shook. “Milk my cock, little mate. I’m going to breed this needy pussy.”
The orgasm building inside me was devastating. It wasn’t the familiar climbing-toward-the-summit sensation. It was a tsunami approaching, massive and dark, and I could feel it about to crash over me. I couldn’t outrun it and I wasn’t sure I’d survive it.
His hand left my hip and drove between us. His thumb found my clit, already swollen and slippery, and ground against it in tight circles that bordered on cruel.
“Come for me.” It wasn’t a request. “Come on my cock like a good girl.”
I screamed. My body jackknifed against his, back arching, head thrown back against the wall, every muscle seizing at once. My pussy clamped down on him in rhythmic, violent contractions that I had no control over and no interest in controlling. Savage pleasure tore through me in pulses that left me gasping and blind, and he fucked me straight through all of it, unrelenting, wringing every last aftershock from me until I hung limp in his arms.
Then he pulled free, and before the whimper of loss had fully left my mouth he spun me around.
One big hand planted between my shoulder blades, holding me flat, my chest and cheek pressed against the rough wood. My assjutted out behind me, bare and exposed, and then the blunt head of his cock drove back into my still spasming pussy with a brutal thrust that tore a ragged cry from my throat.
The angle was deeper. So much deeper. I felt every inch of him, the stretch and the fullness and the almost unbearable pressure against the front wall of my channel. My hands scrabbled against the wood, looking for something to grip and finding nothing.
