second she's finally able pull herself up he's only a few feet behind her. He reaches out for her, only managing to grab hold of her ankle. Its enough to bring her crashing back down to the ground.
“ You're fucking min e now,” he hisses as he climbs on top of her. The weight of his body against her back makes it impossible to slide out from underneath him. She tries but he pushes her back down into the dirt. “Game over, sweetheart,” he whispers in her ear. She can feel him shift on top of her to unbuckle his jeans. She reaches out, stretching an arm as far in front of her as she can, only only to have him envelope her tiny wrist between his thick fingers, dragging her hand back and cupping his own hand over her mouth.
She squirms under the weight of his heavy body. “Isn't this just how you wanted it?” he speaks with lips pressed against her ear, “to be taken rough, relentlessly, in the middle of nowhere. Just like this, right?”
He quickly flips her over on to her back, pinning both of her wrists to the ground. “You want this. Say it,” he tempts her, but all she does is whimper. “Say it. Say it now!” he commands.
“ Yes,” she finally cries out, “I want this.” And she did. More than anything. More than she'd ever care to admit.
He splays her legs wide around him, pulling her closer to him by the hips. He holds her down to the ground and positions himself against her. He breaches her entrance with one swift thrust. A loud, high pitched cry escapes her throat—it's a cry of pain and a cry of relief.
He pins her wrists against the ground, one on each side of her head. His hips roll against her, drilling deeper and deeper inside, hitting that special spot that makes her body crave him even more. She desperately clasps her legs around him and bucks her hips to absorb his violent thrusts. “Fuck,” he calls out, accompanied by a dark and mangled grunt of his own. He fucks her harder, curling his fingers around the base of her neck to hold her firmly in place, slamming her body into the uneven soil beneath them. Their voices mingle, whimpers and groans echoing throughout the vast forest. She holds tight to his wrist as her whole body shudders beneath him. With her eyes closed she sees nothing but stars bursting against a pitch black canvas, a thousand times more vivid than the actual stars above their heads.
Her climax is explosive, and so is his; she knows because she can feel it, like there's a tether between his body and hers.
She goes limp beneath him and she's unsure how she'll recover from that, or if she can at all. Her breathing is hard and rugged as she lays across the jagged ground. When she finally opens her eyes she sees him, still hovering above her with one hand on her wrist and the other fist planted into the ground beside her. Every muscle in his thick arms are bulging and contracting, and he's breathing just as hard as she is. She wants to pull his head down against her chest and cradle him. She wants to run her hands through his soft, black hair and hold him until they both fall asleep.
She watches him, his skin looking paler than normal in the faint moonlight. There's nothing but anguish and raw, masculine beauty upon his face. He's showed her the worst of him; he's showed her his monster. She had been taken by the devil but now she wanted her angel. But he didn't come.
He pulls away from her and falls back onto his heels. He pulls himself up from the ground with the help of a giant oak tree, turns away from her and leans against it, completely silent.
For a moment she wonders if he is going to abandon her. Just leave her out there, naked and alone, to fend for herself and find her own way back home. That would be an epic grand finale, she quickly realizes. As he begins to step away from her she begins to think it's true. He's pushed himself too far, or maybe she's pushed him too far. The monster inside of him had taken over. And for a split second, she thought she would
“ You're fucking min e now,” he hisses as he climbs on top of her. The weight of his body against her back makes it impossible to slide out from underneath him. She tries but he pushes her back down into the dirt. “Game over, sweetheart,” he whispers in her ear. She can feel him shift on top of her to unbuckle his jeans. She reaches out, stretching an arm as far in front of her as she can, only only to have him envelope her tiny wrist between his thick fingers, dragging her hand back and cupping his own hand over her mouth.
She squirms under the weight of his heavy body. “Isn't this just how you wanted it?” he speaks with lips pressed against her ear, “to be taken rough, relentlessly, in the middle of nowhere. Just like this, right?”
He quickly flips her over on to her back, pinning both of her wrists to the ground. “You want this. Say it,” he tempts her, but all she does is whimper. “Say it. Say it now!” he commands.
“ Yes,” she finally cries out, “I want this.” And she did. More than anything. More than she'd ever care to admit.
He splays her legs wide around him, pulling her closer to him by the hips. He holds her down to the ground and positions himself against her. He breaches her entrance with one swift thrust. A loud, high pitched cry escapes her throat—it's a cry of pain and a cry of relief.
He pins her wrists against the ground, one on each side of her head. His hips roll against her, drilling deeper and deeper inside, hitting that special spot that makes her body crave him even more. She desperately clasps her legs around him and bucks her hips to absorb his violent thrusts. “Fuck,” he calls out, accompanied by a dark and mangled grunt of his own. He fucks her harder, curling his fingers around the base of her neck to hold her firmly in place, slamming her body into the uneven soil beneath them. Their voices mingle, whimpers and groans echoing throughout the vast forest. She holds tight to his wrist as her whole body shudders beneath him. With her eyes closed she sees nothing but stars bursting against a pitch black canvas, a thousand times more vivid than the actual stars above their heads.
Her climax is explosive, and so is his; she knows because she can feel it, like there's a tether between his body and hers.
She goes limp beneath him and she's unsure how she'll recover from that, or if she can at all. Her breathing is hard and rugged as she lays across the jagged ground. When she finally opens her eyes she sees him, still hovering above her with one hand on her wrist and the other fist planted into the ground beside her. Every muscle in his thick arms are bulging and contracting, and he's breathing just as hard as she is. She wants to pull his head down against her chest and cradle him. She wants to run her hands through his soft, black hair and hold him until they both fall asleep.
She watches him, his skin looking paler than normal in the faint moonlight. There's nothing but anguish and raw, masculine beauty upon his face. He's showed her the worst of him; he's showed her his monster. She had been taken by the devil but now she wanted her angel. But he didn't come.
He pulls away from her and falls back onto his heels. He pulls himself up from the ground with the help of a giant oak tree, turns away from her and leans against it, completely silent.
For a moment she wonders if he is going to abandon her. Just leave her out there, naked and alone, to fend for herself and find her own way back home. That would be an epic grand finale, she quickly realizes. As he begins to step away from her she begins to think it's true. He's pushed himself too far, or maybe she's pushed him too far. The monster inside of him had taken over. And for a split second, she thought she would
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