146. Braveheart’s Turn
146
Braveheart’s Turn
W illow
I never liked those cartoons where cavemen dragged women around by their hair. It disgusted me, as did many of the laws that gave men dominion over women’s bodies.
Why, I wonder absently, was what just happened in this bed the biggest turn-on of my life? Was it the harsh fucking? The ownership? The fact that Valor just handed me off to Braveheart as if I were his possession?
It doesn’t matter. All I know is that I can’t wait for Braveheart to unglue his feet from the floor and join us.
Come fuck me, I echo.
My head is tipped so I can see him. When he doesn’t move immediately, I say it again, this time more forcefully, out loud. “Come fuck me, Braveheart.”
Valor has pulled out of me and rolled off the bed to stand at the side. The path is clear for Braveheart to join me. I tip my head off the foot of the bed and watch, upside down, as he stalks toward me. Unable to wait, I reach with a gimme motion, wanting him to move faster.
He climbs onto the bed, still looking at Valor as if he’s waiting for the blue male to attack.
Braveheart’s beautiful purple face is tight. He’s still making animalistic chuffing sounds with every exhalation. He’s far from his humanoid self. I watch a montage of pictures roll through my mind as I scroll through my favorite memories of my brief time with this male.
At the top of the list is when I curled on his lap as he told me how he got his name. It was the crowning moment of his humanity. If that weren’t enough, there were all the times I shared our tiny bed, his cock hard as steel pressed into the small of my back. Yet he never took advantage of his position or his strength.
That’s the Braveheart who’s inside this furred, purple tiger-like beast. I know he’s still in there. He’ll keep me safe.
“Do it,” I urge.
I didn’t even tell him to fuck me, figuring the words “do it” gave him more leeway. I’ll take what he wants to give me.
He breathes deep—once, twice. The tension in his shoulders releases. And then he climbs onto the bed.
Struggling, he says, just as he did what seems like an hour ago when he vacated our bed.
Don’t struggle to stop yourself. You have my permission, I say as I reach for him and pull him by his straining cock to climb between my legs.
I guess that was what he needed, because he roars. His hard, masculine body is beautiful as he kneels between my legs, his chin up as he releases a sound so loud it’s as if it were meant to be heard across the plains of the Serengeti.
He roars again. The sound is so thunderous, so impassioned that three more drones whir into our tent to capture the action from additional angles.
Somehow, he manages not to immediately bury his face between my legs. He leans over me to kiss my lips. The Braveheart I kissed back in our cell that night we rubbed ourselves to completion is gone. That night, his kisses were sublime and punctuated with sweet longing.
Right now, his kisses are hot and passionate. He’s not asking for my buy-in, although I’m giving it. He’s taking what he wants.
My nipples seem hard as polished stone as they rub against his rigid chest muscles. I grip his beefy ass and crush him against me. We don’t need words, either out loud or in our heads. All we need is this. The press of flesh on flesh.
He’s waited a long time for this. From the first moment we met. And what he just did, watching his best friend take me like that? He’s got to be more than ready to plunge into me.
I grab his cock, so long and thick and slippery. He must have been dripping pre-cum while he watched the show.
Now it’s your turn , I say as I open my legs wider and pull him into the welcoming harbor between my thighs.
As he slides into me, he tips his head back and makes a noise like nothing I’ve ever heard before. Half human, half beast. I don’t even know what type of beast. Feline? Canine? Something wholly different?
Then he grunts in pleasure as he manages to communicate the word, Good.
Good, I say as I grip his shoulders and force myself not to rock against him, not to move. I want to let him find his pace, to make me his in his own way.
This is nothing like I just experienced with Valor. Even in Braveheart’s fully bestial mode, he’s managing to make love with me.
With every stroke, his anger stands down, his contorted face relaxes, his panting breaths slow. His fingers had been lodged in my hair, gripping so hard they yanked with every stroke. He unfurls them and strokes my face.
I’m watching his beautiful expression and see the moment his humanity comes back online. His golden eyes find mine, and the smallest smile tips the corners of his lips.
“Willow.”
Dear God, the sound of his deep, bass voice penetrates every cell of my body. How can it be pure sex and full of love at the same time?
“Willow.” This time when he bends to kiss me, he keeps eye contact the whole time.
His hips had pumped a few times after entering me, but they’ve been still since then as he swam up through layers of animal DNA and thoughts and urges in order for the real Braveheart to come to the surface.
“I love you,” he says. It was only three words, but his eyes speak volumes.
I was fully in the moment, ready to feel him pound into me. I was totally unprepared for this. I’m trying not to cry, to keep my hot tears from spilling down my face. My heart is clenching with love for him. The world seems to stand still for a second at my request so I can memorize every aspect of this moment.
The look of love in his citrine eyes, the feel of having him cradled between my thighs, the warmth of the feelings he’s beaming at me.
Beautiful, I tell him. So fucking beautiful.
As if this weren’t already the most amazing moment of my life, Valor, who has kept the three of us joined through mindspeak, makes his presence more known. A frisson of thrill flies through me when this meets no resistance from my Braveheart. He welcomes Valor in. Valor envelops us with his love, then backs off so Braveheart and I can commune.
I slide my palms from where they were lodged on Braveheart’s shoulders down to cup his ass as he strikes up a rhythm so different from Valor’s. Instead of being full of possession, this seems to scream his affection with every thrust.
The tenderness of the moment evanesces, though, as my arousal rises. My nipples thrill to every scrape against his furred chest. His pelvic bone manages to press my bundle of nerves with every deliberate thrust.
Feel me, I urge.
Somehow, he and Valor manage to ride inside me to feel my arousal build. It’s a slow burn as Braveheart takes his time, stoking my flames higher and higher until all it takes is a quickened tempo and a little more pressure for him to push me over the edge.
One more hard thrust and he throws his head back and groans long and loud as his seed pulses hard and fast inside me. The look of bliss is written all over his handsome face.
As powerful and thrilling as my completion was with Valor, this is long and endless, with peaks and valleys that seem to rise and fall forever.
“I love you,” I say. “I love you both.”