Marin
His thick, rough fingers slowly draw down the tiny zipper at the back of my dress. Inch by inch. Breath by breath. Peeling each worrisome thought away from my body and soul.
I keep asking myself why I’m doing this. Why I’m agreeing to his command. But deep down, when I pass all the worry about sins and redemption and rapture, I know I want this. Him. And what his dark and dangerous self promises to give me.
I’m re-born here and there is no sin when you are left in a mountain cabin to die.
At least that’s what I’m telling myself and I just want to follow what feels good for once. And he feels so good.
The coolness of the cabin prickles my spine, but the goosebumps that cover my body have nothing to do with the temperature. And have everything to do with him.
He groans as he exposes more and more of my flesh to his view, but as the dress falls away from my body, I hear his breath catch.
I know what he’s seeing. Something that nobody but me has ever seen before. Not since I had the tattoo artist place it on my body on my eighteenth birthday. I told my grandpa I was going to Bible study. That’s the only lie I’ve ever told.
His rough fingertip traces the line of my ribs as he reads the words, in their tiny script, that I have only ever seen backwards in the mirror. “Create in me a clean heart, God, and renew a right spirit within me.”
I let my eyes fall on a knot in the pine boards on the walls. I feel ashamed at having this man see me, this man I don’t know, this man whose presence makes my panties so wet and my mind spin. And yet, I like having his gaze on me. His judgment. That power.
I like the vulnerability of being naked in front of him, too. The quickened breath of his, and the occasional curses falling from his lips make me feel… powerful. But it only adds to the shame my grandpa has put on me all those years.
Temptress. Danger. Impure.
“Now you know,” I say with a shrug of one shoulder. “I am impure. I am dangerous. I am unwholesome to men. You should fear me.”
He doesn’t say anything. But he takes a step closer, pressing his body against mine. The thickness of his erection makes me gasp. The cold metal of his belt buckle presses against my lower back, and his penis feels like it’s nearly about to split the metal teeth of his fly.
He slips his hand between the fabric of my dress and my hip, sliding thick strong fingers toward my belly, his thumb hooking over my red panties.
My knees weaken and I lose focus on the knotted pine. The room shimmers around me, as if I stood up too fast. My heart pounds in my ears and every breath, every sensation, seems almost too intense to bear.
My exposed skin prickles with awareness of his gaze. Heat runs over my flesh, causing that flesh, especially my cheeks, to warm.
And yet with the feeling of his breath against my cheek, the sensation of his powerful manhood threatening me from behind… I feel shame, not fear. But also want. I want whatever happens to me now. Let it all be done. If this is my destiny, then God put me here and I will accept my fate.
He slides his hand up my belly, cupping my left breast. He groans as he weighs it in his palm. My nipples perk up so tight, it almost hurts in the cold cabin air.
He grinds his hips against me from behind, urgent and intense. Slow and powerful. “Impure, huh?”
I drop my head, my hair blocks out my face and the dim morning light through the dirty windows. “So impure.”
His hand moves to the other breast, while his other hand touches me between my legs. I shudder with the first caress of his rough fingers against my pussy. My body is on fire now, a molten mess of things I don’t understand. I know so little of the world, and even less of sex.
But now here he is, touching me with awe, almost, groaning into my ear. And not sounding at all like he needs protection. But more like he is craving, needing, desperate for a release that only I can give him.
I close my eyes. “I am impure. I am sin.”
He growls into my ear. “Say that again.”
My heart aches with it, with all the years of shame, of feeling wrong in myself, dangerous in my beauty. “I am sin.”
“Tell me you mean it.”
I nod a little, feeling his stubble against my cheek. The heat of his breath. Cologne and sweat again. So different from any scent I have ever known. “In Jesus’ name, I mean it.”
“So then fucking prove it.”
His words light a fire in me, a flash from embers that have smoldered for so long. I let the room spin, let my mind whirl, and follow my instincts, letting my hand slide back to undo his belt.
But I’m clumsy with it. Nervous, unsure. His strong hand overtakes mine, certain fingers guiding my fearful ones. The snap of the leather coming free, the jingle of the buckle coming open. And now the softness of his penis pressing through his underwear against my bare skin.
“You shouldn’t,” I say, my voice hoarse and low.
His cock twitches against my flesh. “The fuck I shouldn’t.”
“I mean, I’ll be your downfall,” I murmur, almost automatically, robotically. Radio preachers and tent sermons and purify thyself, young lady, purify thyself. “I will be your undoing.”
My words only encourage him, and his intensity sparks a reaction in my body that I have never felt before. A desperation to be undone, myself.
His fingers explore me from behind, greedy and aggressive. It’s as if his entire body tightens when he feels my soaked panties. And now even I can smell my musk mixed in with the dusty cabin air. “Bullshit, little girl. This dick will be your undoing. I guarantee it.”
My eyes flutter shut, my head drops. And I let myself succumb. “So be it.”
He yanks his underwear down and now we are flesh to flesh, the curve of my butt pressing firmly and perfectly into the bend in his hips. Like I was made for him.
He takes his cock in hand, stroking it long and greedy against the opening of my pussy. Dipping in, dipping out. My body flutters and rolls, and I find myself pawing for more, please, more. Wondering for a moment if this is all just a fever dream.
He pushes the side of his jaw against mine. “Put your hands on the fucking table, you hear me?”
I obey, without protest. He hikes my skirt up over my ass, stepping back and groaning when he finally sees all of me. “Jesus Fuckin’ Christ.” He reaches forward, opening his palm in front of me. “Spit. Right fucking here.”
I’m surprised, not only by the command but by his use of the Lord’s name, but I obey again. But I’m polite about it. Because I’ve always been taught that a girl shouldn’t spit.
He growls his disapproval. “Get fucking dirty, you hear me? I said spit.”
I gather a big mouthful of saliva and shoot it into his palm, splattering his fingers and making a tendril of wetness stick against my cheek. He likes that and grunts his approval. “Atta fucking girl.”
With his saliva-slick palm, he strokes his dick at my opening, nudging the head inside. And it feels good, but scary. So scary. “Please, I’ve never…”
He laughs a little, cruel and unkind. “No shit, angel. I could see that the first time you looked at me. Virgin eyes. You think you’re impure? You’re not. But you’re about to be.”
Oh, my God. This all feels so wrong. And yet, so very, very right. I feel my eyes well up a little, not in fear, not in danger, but in the overwhelming weight of all I have been told warring inside me against what I want and need.
“I…”
He slows his strokes, pulling me in close, making me feel safe and protected. “Tell me.”
“I don’t know how to do any of this.”
He chuckles, and I can feel his attitude toward me softening again.
I like the way he is. Rough and aggressive, then kind and warm.
He turns me around in his arms, his erection pushing hard against my belly.
I glance down and gasp. It is huge. And veined.
And throbbing. A solid shaft of muscle, with a purplish head and skin pulled so tight.
And it’s leaking. That little droplet of moisture, it draws me to it. And makes my mouth water. “Can I taste?”
His eyes narrow, getting greedy and intense. He’s so very handsome. So very intense. “Go on. You are playing that temptress well. I think you like being this girl. A mountain man’s slut lost in the woods.”
I slowly sweep the drop of moisture from the slit in the tip, and place it to my lips. It’s warm and slick but otherwise… “It doesn’t really taste like anything.”
He smiles this killer smile that absolutely makes my heart go flip-flop. “Not yet, baby. But it will.”
Now with his other hand, he pinches my cheeks. He brings his lips to mine, kissing me in a way that takes my breath away. All my friends have been kissed, behind the locker and football games and school dances. But not me. Never this. Never until now.
As he kisses me, his big rough hand comes down and pushes my panties aside.
I gasp into the kiss, knees wobbling, and then I feel him draw my little bud tight with his finger.
I whimper and hang onto him for dear life.
Again, he smiles, but this time into the kiss, and he works me harder and harder until the room isn’t just spinning. It’s sparkling and shattering.
“All those curls are fucking hot.” He grunts and I know most girls my age shave themselves bare, but I could never. “You’re a gift from nature. Natural mountain girl sent here just for me.”
“Oh my…”
He slows his teasing. He slides his hands down my ass and hoists me up onto the wooden tabletop. Once again, we fit together like we were made for one another.
He fists his cock in his hand, working his length against my pussy.
The tip of his cock nudges between my folds, teasing my clit.
The sensation is mind-blowing, toe-curling.
My need builds and builds. Higher and higher.
My body responds to him faster than I can process.
Like every cell in my body has been ready for this all along. I hang onto him as tight as I can.
“Give it to me, angel,” he growls in my ear. “I fucking told you, it’s time to pay up. Your cum is your collateral.”