Marin #2
I look deep into his eyes. The depth of the forest of his eyes has all the gorgeous and dangerous secrets I can’t even imagine. But I desire to get in on all those secrets. I want to know everything.
Being so close to him now, it’s like everything makes sense. All my desires, all my needs. It all makes sense here. The lava that flows through me seems like instinct, not sin. And yet. “I’m so bad, Davis. I’m so, so bad.”
When he pulls back from me, I worry he’s finally accepted the truth I’m voicing. But he kneels in front of me, like I’m the crucifix above the altar and he says his prayers.
“Davis…” I start, but my words fall on a moan when his mouth closes on my… my pussy. His tongue laps at me, pushing between my folds. My legs quiver when he sucks my clit into his mouth and I arch off the table. “Oh, God,” I breathe out.
He groans while sucking and kissing my pussy. His teeth graze over my clit, causing a delirious pleasure to shoot through my spine. I reach for him, pulling his head closer to my flesh.
“Bossy,” he says with a chuckle.
“Please. God, please.”
He dives in once more, lapping my juices. Little sparks of fireworks appear behind my eyelids while my body becomes tense, like an arrow ready to shoot.
“C’mon, little girl. Give it to me. Come in my mouth,” he says.
I don’t know what he asks from me, but seems like my body knows it.
With a cry of pleasure, my body curves like a bow and frees all the tension and built-up energy.
I fall back on the table, smiling at the ceiling.
He moves back on my body, leaning over me until our lips meet.
He kisses me hard, his tongue searching my mouth, his teeth clashing against mine.
He pulls away leaving me breathless. I feel pressure at my opening.
Still feeling the bliss, I focus on the tension between my legs; a tiny opening being driven open by a huge member.
More pressure. And more.
He holds me close in his arms, pumps his hips once in a powerful thrust. The tension between my legs breaks and a white-hot searing shaft of pain tears through my bliss. I cry out in agony.
I hear him talking to me, but he sounds far away, like I’m drowning and he’s coming to rescue me. “Push through the pain, angel. Let me take what belongs to me.”
Oh, the pain. My God, the pain. It rips up through my belly, so intense I can’t even think outside of it. It is so sharp and so glassy that it cuts through my spinning glittery haze.
He keeps me close, staying deep inside me as my body screams both no and yes. A flood of something hot spills from my body, and I look down to see him and me both, covered in my virgin blood.
My blood streaks his cock, messy and horrible.
“God, it hurts,” I say, halfway on a pained sob. I deserve this pain. I deserve to hurt. “Davis, it hurts.”
But he holds me close, and fucks me slow now, slow and urgent. “I’m gonna come inside you now, baby. You understand what that means?”
“Yes,” I say, gripping him tight with my quivering thighs.
“Please. I deserve this. I deserve whatever you give me.” I take his face in my hands, my fingers feeling tiny against his massive jaw, and bring my forehead toward his.
I lock eyes with him, and in that instant, somehow, I forget myself.
I let the pain cleanse me. I want all the wrongs right now.
I don’t care about Jesus or God or anything except following the feelings they put inside me.
“Come for me. Let me make you good again.”
My body shudders at his words. A rush of my wetness spills out of me, making him groan.
“Just fucking let go, baby. You’re a precious little slut, and all of you is mine now.
The good and the bad. The pure and the poison.
Just stop thinking and let it go.” And I do.
Again. It’s like a well of emotions and pleasure opens and runs over all the sadness and guilt.
The waves twirl over and over like a current.
And all of them reach to the shore, finally, finally.
Finally.
My body tightens and my consciousness sort of… slips. With ripples of unimaginable pleasure. Rapturous pleasure. Heaven itself.
And I just let go.
“Fuck. You’re so fucking beautiful,” he growls. “You feel so fucking good. You were made for me my little red whore. Perfect.”
And then with another primal thrust of his strong body, clenching his ass and gripping me close, he thrusts into me again and again, big hands gripping my butt, before kissing me one last time and coming hard and deep, all the way inside me.
***
The sun is slowly coming up over the horizon, beyond the frosted pine trees, when he bundles me up and lays me in bed. I’m spent. He brought me to that mountain top five more times with his mouth, his fingers and again with his thick manhood only this time, with me on top.
It was freeing. I let myself just be without thought or judgement. Come what may, this place, this man is my re-birth.
“You stay there, you hear me? No fucking running from me now. We clear?” There’s a smile in his voice, but he looks serious as a heart attack even still.
“Yes.”
“Because I like you, but I’m not fucking fighting a wolf pack for you. Got it?”
I nod up at him. And then blink once. And say, “You sure?”
He turns away, shaking his head, and turns on the light in the little bathroom, separated from the rest of the cabin by a simple curtain. The sound of running water fills the air. “Time to get you cleaned up, Little Red.”
My eyes suddenly feel heavy and sleepy. I didn’t sleep well, but I’m sure he didn’t sleep at all. But now, now I feel safe and warm and okay. “Thank you for coming up here. I don’t know why you did, but thank you for protecting me.”
He looks at me over his shoulder. Like he wants to explain, wants to tell me something he hasn’t yet.
His eyebrows furrow a little and he looks serious, concerned.
But whatever it is, he lets it go. “I come up here a lot, and I’m glad I was here today.
Maybe that’s the silver lining to being an insomniac. ”
“Well, if all your pillows are like this one.” I make a face at the flat horror pretending to be a pillow on the bed. “It’s no wonder you don’t sleep.”
“Naw, not like that. You’ll see soon enough.”
With the bath drawn, he helps me out of bed.
My legs are unsteady. Again, I feel exposed and vulnerable in front of him, especially by the bright unshaded bulb in the bathroom.
But I stay close, clinging to him almost. Because while he may not make me feel exactly pure, he at least makes me feel a little better than I have in a long while.