Page 30 of Primal

“You love it.” I circle her clit, mirroring every punishing drive. “Love getting wrecked. Love how fucking big I feel inside you.”

A whimper slips free.

I don’t let up. “You can’t even think when I’m pounding you this deep.”

Her whole body tightens.

“Come,” I order.

And fuck if her tight little cunt doesn’t obey—pulsing, milking me—spine arched as she bites her wrist to muffle the scream.

I rip her hand away. “No hiding. Let me hear you.”

She sobs—wrecked and radiant, still taking everything I give her.

My balls tighten. My grip turns bruising. “Where you want it?”

She grinds back harder.

Greedy girl.

One quick rotation and she’s airborne before the tree catches her. My arm bands under her knee, the other hand fisting her hair. Her legs wrap around me, breath hot and ragged against my mask. I thrust up into her, the angle brutal, her cunt still fluttering.

“Nngghh—” Her nails dig into my shoulders. “You’re—ah—deeper—”

“Want my cum?” I snap my hips harder, watching her unravel.

Her head thuds back against the tree. “Yes …”

“Then beg for it.”

Her eyes go feral with that ‘Fuck you’ look. She shoves the hood back.

No.

The mask slips off in one vicious tug—and the world’s suddenly way too bright.

Her mouth opens. Nothing comes out. She glares like she’s peeling back every lie I’ve ever told. Every single one.

And I’m still buried inside her.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

I tense for the slap. The scream. The ‘I’ll fucking kill you’ she’s earned the right to spit in my face.

“Payton …”

“Shut up.” Her arms lock around my neck. “Fuck me like you mean it, Ghostface.”

I squeeze her ass, haul her down. Pound into her like I’m carving myself into her bones.

She surges up. Her mouth crashes into mine. The growl that tears from her throat is pure fucking combat. Daring me to stop.

I don’t.