by Vivien Vale
I feel him inhale. Breathing in my scent. Then, like he did on that first morning with the maple syrup, he offers them to my mouth.
This time, I don’t hesitate.
This time, I suck my sweet, sticky syrup off his fingers and taste myself on his skin.
“You’re wet, little girl,” Jack growls, low and with warning. “But not wet enough.”
Jack’s body slides down mine until his big, overgrown beard is positioned between my pale, trembling thighs. But his hand?
His hand stays right there on my throat.
“Spread yourself,” he commands.
He commands, and I obey. I slip my fingers between my sopping wet pussy lips and spread them open. I’m already so wet, I can’t imagine being any wetter—
Until he breathes on me. A hot breath of humid, life-giving air. I feel it hit the silky pink flesh of my pussy and enter me, spreading warmth up through my body all the way to my fingertips and my toes. For a moment, I’m entirely warm. In that moment, I become wetter than ever.
But then the moment fades. Without his heat, I feel closer to death all over again.
“Please,” I whine, twisting beneath him with need.
It’s all he needs to hear.
His tongue is hot and wet as he devours me, but it’s nothing compared to the honey currently filling up my cunt and spilling out onto the mattress beneath me. He sucks my clit between his lips, lashing out at it with his tongue, but only for a moment.
Suddenly, his tongue is inside me, teasing my maidenhead and drinking from me like I’m the maple syrup he wants to pour on his pancakes in the morning.
It’s so much like it was before…but different too, I realize. Before, there was that spark of fear inside me. Maybe, somewhere beneath all my goosebumps and sore muscles and shivering flesh, it’s there still.
But if it is, it’s frozen over. Turned to ice crystals in the cold.
Then, I feel it: orgasm. Blissful, intense, world-breaking orgasm rising up inside me as Jack pleasures me with his mouth.
It shatters that fear completely, and a fat, glowing, beautiful rose blooms in its place.
I breathe out a ragged breath, cooing and sighing, but then I see Jack’s eyes staring up at me. They’re different from the eyes that I always find quietly gazing at me. These eyes are watching me with a sharpness I’ve never before. Observing from between my thighs. Like a predator stalking his prey.
His fingers tighten around my throat and my whole body goes wild.
“Not so fast, little girl,” he growls. “That’s one.”
Then, he moves up against my body again, and the hairs of his mustache tickle at my ear.
“I’m not finished with you yet.”
Jack
This is wrong, I tell myself as my hard, rough lips clash against Avery’s soft, sweet mouth.
This is wrong, I tell myself as I take her pale, firm breast in my huge, calloused hand and squeeze it so hard she whimpers.
This is wrong, I tell myself as I slap my massive, heavy cock against her cold, trembling skin.
I should be wrapping this girl up in furs and brushing her hair by the fire right now.
I should be carrying her away to a hot, steaming bath.
Instead, I lose myself a little more with every touch. Every kiss. Every fucking response her body has to my every fucking move, and dammit, I know it’s wrong.
I’m going to fucking hurt her.
But she wants you to hurt her.
I’m going to fucking lose control.
Yeah, and she’ll fucking love that.
Avery is a virgin. A virgin snow angel, flung off the mountain and into my over-muscled arms for me to protect. To keep safe. To watch over and shelter from this fucking snowstorm until she leaves me and returns to God’s own loving fucking care.
But instead, here I am. A beast with a hard-on as thick as my clenched fist as I wind her long, silken blonde hair in my fingers. A wolf with sharp teeth and a killer’s conscience poised above her, with nothing but the ill intent in my veins as I howl at her door.
If I take her with my cock, I’m going to split this poor girl in two.
Instead, I use my fingers, sliding them up and down her slit until I’ve turned all that sweet, hot honey into a frothy lather. Her body convulses beneath mine as I stroke her to orgasm.
A second, then a third. A fourth. A fifth.
I can feel her losing control of herself. Slipping away to that daydreamy secret place that women go to when they’ve been properly satisfied. Leaving her old self, the part of her that’s scared of me and knows better than to tempt the fucking Devil himself—leaving that part of her behind.
I’m making her desperate for me under the guise of keeping her safe. Safe from a cock that even now is dripping hot pearls of precum, one after the other, down on her skin.
“Is this what you wanted?” I sneer against her lips. “Is this what you fucking wanted, Avery?”
“Y-y-yes,” she stutters shakily.
She’s still fucking coming. Wanton little slut can’t fucking stop now that she’s started. That only makes me work my fingers against her swollen little clit even harder.
But no—this is Avery we’re talking about. Sweet, virginal little Avery who makes such orgasmic little noises when she stuffs her mouth with my pancakes, closes her eyes and moans like she’s tasting heaven.
There’s something else I want to stuff her mouth with now.
I want to make her taste me. Make her moan like that when it’s my syrup covering her tongue.
But Avery isn’t moaning like that. Oh no, she’s far beyond that now.
Avery is whimpering. Hissing and sobbing like a bitch in heat. Makes my hard cock even harder. Makes me want to make her come so hard and so intensely that it shuts her up for good.
God dammit! This is why I don’t deserve this fucking girl.
This is why I can’t fucking trust myself with her. She’s too good and sweet and pure and I’m too fucking far gone.
I pull my fingers away, determined to end this fucking madness once and for all. I’ll shut myself in the goddamn cellar if I have to. Nail the door shut for good.
Or, more likely, I’ll shut poor fucking Avery here in my bedroom. Sleep on the couch and wait out the storm when I can call her fat cat father or whoever the fuck is responsible for herding prissy-ass society virgins to their pre-approved marital matches. Whatever it takes to keep me from hurting this girl and keeping her stubborn little ass out of harm’s way.
But then, I hear it.
Small and sweet, like the ringing of a bell.
“Jack,” Avery pouts, curling her fingers in my chest hair and pulling herself against me. “P-please…I’m so c-c-cold…”
And just like that, I fucking lose it again. I trap her clit beneath my thumb, working it round and round in harsh little circles that have her hyperventilating in an instant. I take my index finger and work it round and round the tight little mouth of her cunt, stretching her hymen to its limits and pushing past it into a pussy that’s burning hot for me, no matter what Avery says about how fucking cold she is.
A finger. That’s all she can take. And god—she takes it beautifully. Fucking gloriously.
But it’s just a finger. Even a finger as thick and practiced as mine isn’t anything compared to a huge fucking cock forcing its way into that sweet little cunt.
I’ve stretched her out as much as I can.
I’ve made her wet as any woman has ever been for the man she wants.
But if I fuck this girl, I know she’s going to bleed. She’s going to hurt.
She’s going to fucking break.
My cock throbs at the thought of Avery’s virginal blood mixing pink with her honey and my cum. All of it smeared together around the thickness of my base, serving as a lubricant while I churn her hot little pussy like it’s a batch of my homemade fucking butter.
This is wrong, I tell myself as I position my cock against her entranc
e.
“Please, Jack!” Avery sobs.
This is wrong, I tell myself as I press against her maidenhead, feeling it try to accommodate my girth and fail fucking miserably.
“I’m s-so…so cold…so fucking cold…”
This is wrong, I tell myself as I force myself deeper. Harder. She’s stretched so tight around me, I know that with even so much a tremble of my hips I’ll be inside her and she’ll be in a whole world of regret and pain—
But then, I look down at her. I see the fucking need in her eyes. The desire.
The same fucking fearlessness that sent her barreling down that icy road the night I found her. The same fucking stubborn wanting that sent her trudging out into the snow with no map and no flashlight and no fucking idea what she was going to do next.
Call it bravery. Call it stupidity.
From experience, it’s usually a little bit of both.
But this girl wants me. She fucking needs me. She’s long overdue for a good, hard fucking, and I can’t deny that I’m not so different myself.
Ten fucking years without a woman. Ten years or more.
And now, this sweet little angel wants me. Wants my power and my anger and my big fucking cock and my brute fucking strength.
I see that look in her eye, and I see my own gaze reflected in her icy clear blue irises.
Somewhere in my own reflection, I fucking lose myself.
My cock twitches, and that’s all it fucking takes.
I see all of the breath leave Avery’s lungs and know that it’s done.
I’ve broken her seal. I’ve signed both our names in blood.
Little did I know that it would unleash the Devil itself when I did.
Not just in me.
In Avery, too.
In both of us.
The instant I’m in, I can’t fucking stop myself. I’m thrusting, hard and angrily with a snarl on my lips. I’m going to make this girl feel every fucking inch of me, and I’m going to watch her take every fucking one.
But Avery isn’t Avery anymore either. Avery is a hellcat now—unhinged, moaning, and desperate for more, more, more. She curls her fingers against my shoulders and rakes her nails down my pack, leaving raw, white-hot paths where she’s made her mark.
Marking me. She’s marking me as hers. My fingers clench around her throat in response, holding her delicate little neck in a way that I know is going to fucking bruise.
Bitch thinks she can mark me? I’ll mark her right back. Mark her, make her mine, and then some.
Sweet little virginal Avery isn’t on birth control, after all.
That gets me harder than ever. She wants to claw up my back, that’s just fucking fine. I’ll pump her womb full of my cum. Then I’ll do it again in ten minutes when my cock is once again hard for her and my balls are once again full of my seed.
Pregnant the first time she’s ever fucked. For some women, that would be just fucking unfortunate. For sweet little Avery, it’s going to be a goddamn honor.
I’ve never fucked a woman pregnant before. And I fucking well warned her, too.
No fucking condoms. Not this far from civilization. Not in this fucking cabin.
And now, with me inside her, there’s no fucking choice.
I try to be gentle. In my brief moments of clarity, I do my best to slow myself. To accommodate for her inexperience and to soothe her pain with the sweet kisses on her lips that a woman like her deserves.
But kissing only makes me harder, and getting harder only pushes me further of the edge.
Vaguely, I am aware that Avery is screaming beneath me. In pain or in ecstasy, I can’t be sure.
And at this point? At this point, I don’t fucking care.
That’s the beauty of being this high up in the mountains, after all.
She can scream all she wants.
There’s no one here to fucking hear it.
No one but me.
Avery
It’s like flipping a switch. Basking in the darkness of midnight then turning on a light.
That’s where I was before this. Before Jack.
Before sex.
My virginity left me in the dark, and my innocence didn’t even give me a flashlight. I’ve seen flashes of pornography before, sure. My friends were always bolder than me—less afraid of getting caught.
But a few seconds of two anonymous, detached porn stars rubbing up against each other?
It’s nothing compared to this.
Jack is a wild man. Mad with something that I don’t have a name for.
The look in his eyes is insane. Unhinged. He forces his cock into me a fraction of an inch at a time, but even then—there’s only so much my pussy can take.
Jack is huge. Not just his cock—well, that too—but really, all of him is mountainous. His biceps ripple with raw power. His pectorals twitch as he tries to fight the primal urges that still live in his muscle memory, no matter how hard he tries to hold back and repress.
He has so much power behind his every thrust that I can tell it’s all he can do to stop from splitting me in two right now. Just like those logs he’s been chopping outside every time I remind him that I’m a woman and he’s a man and the two of us together like this must be the most natural thing in the entire world.
Then his cock twitches.
Something inside me snaps as it does.
It feels like a supernova between my legs. Like the haloed explosion of a dying star. I cry out in—not pain, but not exactly pleasure, either.
It’s a sensation. Pure and visceral and intense, beyond anything else I’ve ever felt.
I’m not a virgin anymore.
The pleasure comes after. It spirals up my spine, through my arms and legs and all the way to the cold little tips of my fingers and toes. It feels like hot little needles made of golden warmth.
I’m suddenly not so cold anymore either.
Inside me, Jack’s cock pulsates. I can feel the thick, engorged tip forcing my delicate inner walls apart and filling the space with his thickness, his length.
Then Jack’s thickness fills me in a way that I never thought possible. In a way I never could have imagined before, even if I tried.
His tip slides against what I guess must be my G-spot. I read somewhere that the G-spot is a myth, but when he moves against it, my whole body is wracked with pleasure.
When he moves against it again as he pulls out, I lose control.
It’s not just an orgasm. It’s an epiphany. It’s every cliché I’ve ever read or heard of about sex finally clicking in my mind—coming together and making sense.
And it’s an unraveling. I’ve been a Very Good Girl for so long now that I never imagined I might have a darkness within me. A Very Bad Girl waiting to be unleashed. But my inner dark side doesn’t smoke cigarettes beneath the bleachers at the football field or dip in to Mommy’s expensive wine collection while the parents are in Bali…
My dark side is all nails and animalistic snarling, moaning and screaming and teeth.
I dig my French tips into Jack’s shoulder blades, raking them down his hot, hard skin. I can feel his muscles rippling beneath my nails in pain or pleasure or some mix of the two. He growls like an animal, fucking me even harder. It only makes me dig my nails in more.
When I first saw Jack, I thought he was more wild animal than man.
Now with his cock inside me, I’m just as wild as him.
We fuck like we’re feral. Like nature and instinct have taken over our bodies and twisted our minds.
When I used to think about losing my virginity, I imagined that it would be soft, sweet, loving, and kind.
This isn’t kind. This is horny, lust-driven madness.
My body responds to it like it was made for this.
It’s not just my virginity that I’m losing beneath Jack’s gorgeous, muscular body. With every orgasm I have around Jack’s thick, hard cock, I feel like I’m losing myself too. Little by little. Piece by piece.
My
brain is being flooded with endorphins and hormones that make me dizzy. Make everything around me feel surreal.
What sensation I can feel, I have to hold onto so I can ground myself on it—or else, I’ll fear I’ll lose myself entirely. Float away on a cloud made of orgasmic dreams.
But focusing on the sensations that Jack is giving me only makes me orgasm harder. Faster. More.
The moments that he tries to slow himself, tries to shut out the beast inside him that’s ravaging my body, are the only moments that keep me sane.
But slowly, I feel even those gradually fading away into something darker. Even more primitive. Something violent and terrifying and delicious and full of aching intensity.
Jack warned me that he would hurt me.
He warned me, and I didn’t listen.
It’s not that I’m afraid of him. I’ve looked death dead in the eye as my own fiancé curled his hateful fingers around the bodice of my wedding dress. I saw it again when my car hit that black ice. I’ve been flung down an entire fucking mountain and lived to tell the tale.
I’m not afraid of Jack. Nothing he could possibly do to me would be worse than what’s already been done.
What I’m afraid of is what I’ll become if he fucks me any harder. Makes me orgasm even just once more.
But my body doesn’t care about fear. Fuck, my body might actually enjoy it. Even as my pleasure-drowned mind races, trying to find some kind of traction or guidance, I can feel another orgasm building between my legs.
And this one? It’s going to be the biggest one yet.
I have to think.
But I can’t fucking think.
I might not be innocent or naive anymore, but Jack’s cock has made me fucking dumb.
I can’t come again.
If I come again, I don’t know who I’ll become when the orgasm is over.
So I do the only thing I can think of.
I kiss him.
Our lips clash together like the soldiers of two warring armies out for blood. Jack’s warrior lips are curled into a snarl while he fucks my cunt hot and wet and raw. His kiss is just as powerful as everything else about him.
If there’s any such thing as winning a kiss, Jack is certainly trying.
