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If he doesn’t move soon, I’ll have to put my shirt back on and bury my head in the sand for all eternity.
Goosebumps pebbled my bare chest, and my arms tensed to stop the instinct to cover up. Just as I was about to chalk it all up to a bad experience, he moved. His eyes darkened. He slowly rose to his feet and then pulled me into his arms so fast our chests collided. My hardening nipples brushed the cotton of his t-shirt, and I shivered as I wrapped my arms around his neck. I pressed a kiss to his chin and nipped along his jaw.
“Are you sure?” he asked. Lifting my chin, he assessed my eyes.
“Yes.”
His eyes were bloodshot and puffy from holding back tears. His knuckles were still bleeding and swollen. He was sweaty, and his muscles bulged, veins popping with the recent exertion. I shouldn’t have found any of it attractive. But I did.
The demonstration of strength was probably to blame for my desire. Females were designed to look for strength and not just in how he’d made visible dents in the tree trunk. He wanted to protect me, even from himself. He held himself back despite all the emotion he carried. But when I told him he could trust me, could rely on me to love him through it all, he let me in. And that required a different kind of strength. One I could appreciate even more.
“You want us to make love angry?” His brow furrowed as he stroked my jaw.
I took his hand and kissed his knuckles as I whispered, “I want you. Angry. Sad. Hurt. Afraid. I want you.”
“You do not need to prove that to me. I believe you,” he replied. But his voice was low with desire, his eyes fixated on my lips as his other hand moved up my ribs so his thumb rested under my breast.
I shook my head. “I want to. We should let go. We should do everything we want, even if it scares us.” The longing in his eyes gave me the courage to lower his hand from my lips to my breast. A whimper escaped me as his fingers flexed, squeezing slightly. “We should be everything to each other.”
“Little Cat,” was all he managed before his lips crashed into mine.
His hands moved from my chest to my behind as I reached for the bottom of his shirt and began pulling it up over his defined abs and pectorals, which I lovingly stroked. He took over, quickly throwing his shirt into the surrounding grass. He reached for my leggings as I reached for his trousers. We managed to get them halfway down before our lips collided together again. We were ravenous for each other, kissing hard as our hands roamed, caressing, scratching, and pinching at bare skin.
His erection was huge and jumped against my stomach as I bit into his lip. He groaned, and the sound set me alight. Liquid desire coated the inside of my thighs, and I clenched them to feel something. Anything. I whimpered.
He broke away, as breathless as I was, his lips shiny and swollen and his eyes burning. He gripped my hips and turned us, and then spun me, so I was pressed into the tree trunk, the bark harsh and unforgiving against my sensitive skin and nipples. But it was exactly the sensation I wanted. Needed. I craved the pleasure and pain, the reward and punishment.
His lips caressed the shell of my ear and I shivered. “Are you ready for me, Little Cat?”
I felt like I was. I wanted him so much. But he was so big.What can it hurt if we just forgo the foreplay?
“Yes. Please. Zaide, I want you.”
I wiggled against him, and he stopped me, squeezing my hips and pressing me more firmly against the tree. His large body surrounded me, protected me from the chill in the wind, but being so confined made me even more needy.
He pressed my hands flat against the bark and said, “Do not move your hands.” His voice was a low growl, and the command made me shudder.
His fingers spread my arousal up to coat my clit. I arched my back and tightened my thighs, whimpering as I felt his large finger surging through my folds.
When his finger pressed at my entrance, he demanded, “Open for me, Little Cat.”
“I am.” I wriggled again, bearing down on his finger.
“You aren’t.” He spread my lips, and I spread my legs a much as I could while my leggings circled my ankles like manacles. His long, thick digit finally sank deep inside me, and I moaned, my forehead pressed into the bark as I desperately rode his hand. “You’re so small, and I don’t want to hurt you.”
I shook my head and whined, “Hurt me. I want to feel you stretch me. I want to feel it burn. I want you to hold me against this tree and fuck me so hard you hit my cervix with every thrust. Please, Zaide. I need you.”
He stopped moving, and I felt the hiccup in his breath. “You are going to kill me.”
I smiled, unable to stop my pride at being able to affect him so much, and sassed, “Not before we cum, I hope.”
“If you want hard, Little Cat …” He caressed my back before he pulled his finger out and spanked me. Not my backside. My pussy. I gasped, and sparks flashed behind my eyes. “I can give it to you hard.”
His voice was calm and controlled, and it didn’t feel fair that he was still composed while I felt so completely wild. So, I started talking in an attempt to make him as impassioned as I.
“I want you to mark me. I want you to see me, see the bruises and the bite marks you put on my body, and know I’m yours. That you did that to me. I want to feel you tomorrow. I want my pussy so open to you that you could slip inside me at any time, for the rest of the day, as though I was made just for you and your pleasure.”
“Gods, Clawdia. Your mouth.” His teeth bit onto my neck just hard enough to make a mark and hurt for a second, until he peppered the imprint with kisses.
