Page 42 of The Wild Man

How do I answer that question?

It takes me a few seconds to form a reply.

“It can mean many things.” I slide my head back on his arm so I can see his face better. “An extreme reaction to something is one. But the way I used it earlier, I was telling you to have sex with me.”

“Sex? That what we do?”

“Yes.”

“Already doing sex,” he says, his brows pulling down.

“Yes, but I wanted you to do it harder and give me more.”

“Why?”

I pause a moment. “Because fucking feels good.”

This is the weirdest conversation to be having with a grown man. But then again, he was so young when he was left alone that I’m sure he never had the ‘birds and the bees’ talk with his parents.

“Hard sex is fucking.”

Even though we just ‘fucked’, the way he says the word fucking has a small tingle forming between my legs. I ignore the need to rub them together.

“What is… soft sex?”

Again, his question gives me pause and it takes me a moment to come up with an answer. “Doing it slowly and softly is lovemaking.”

He turns his head to stare up at the trees. “Lovemaking,” he says slowly, almost with awe. He looks back down at me. “Next time we do lovemaking.”

I don’t know how I feel about making love to Wild Man. It’s true that the term means soft and slow, but there’s more that I didn’t say. Making love is done with someone you care about. It involves tender emotions and done with reverence. It’s looking deeply into someone’s eyes while your bodies come together and feel an undeniable connection.

What I feel for Wild Man may not be the hatred I should feel, but it’s certainly not the deep emotions that come with making love with someone.

Although, a small part of me wonders what he would be like as a gentle lover. Today was the first time he has taken me with us facing each other. All the other times have been while on my hands and knees or bent over. I hate to admit it, but I liked looking at him and seeing the way his eyes lit with desire and the tightening of his jaw when he found his release.

It’s a dangerous thought to have and one I need to work at banishing from my mind.

I can’t afford to develop feelings that will make leaving Wild Man hard.

Because one thing’s for sure, I’m leaving the first chance I get.

fourteen

Everlee

I sit between Wild Man’s legs with my back pressed against his chest. He’s leaning against the log he usually sits on, and we’re in front of the fire as the flames cook our food. It’s been a few days since I woke to Wild Man feasting between my legs, and while I know he’s not fully recovered from the rattler bite and should probably rest more, he was insistent that we go find food. He chose fish this time, something I was grateful for.

Not only because I was able to bathe, but I wasn’t ready to chance running across another snake. Before he went fishing, he bathed with me. Of course, bathing led to other things.

Since our conversation about lovemaking, Wild Man has tried doing it softly, but I’ve purposely made it impossible for him. He starts out slow, but I do something that drives the softness right out of him and he ends up taking me roughly.

He fucks me.

I’m not ready for soft and gentle yet. I’m not sure I ever will be.

I pick at the threads of the rope around my waist and hold up the loose part in front of our faces.

Earlier, when I came out of the tree hut after taking a nap, I found Wild Man sitting on the log. When I moved to sit across the fire from him, he ordered me to come to him. I expected him to have me sit in front of him on the ground like usual or to have me sit on his lap like I have a few times, but instead, he moved to the ground and had me sit between his legs.

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