Page 40 of Bigfoot Boss
“Bay! Do not run!” he bellows after me.
I’m too lost in embarrassment to comprehend. I race around the corner of the house, bound up the steps of the front porch, before I realize what I am doing. I try to stop myself, but I as I stumble to a halt, my bare foot catches on the front door jam. I tumble to my knees inside the cabin with a yelp.
And then he’s on top of me. His heavy weight pins me easily to the floor.
“I told you not to run,” he growls into my ear. His rough hands meet my waist, and he effortlessly lifts me, flipping me onto my back. He pins my hands above my head, both of my wrists held in one large, capable hand. He spreads my thighs with the press of his knee as he lowers himself over me. My brain is flooded, half with fear and half with desire. He’s strong and big, and I’m totally at his mercy.
“Sacha!” It’s not a protest. He’s still completely naked. I can feel how aroused he is. His erection is pressed against me so close and hard that, if I wasn’t wearing underwear, he’d be inside me right now. My brain is screaming for him to pull them to the side and shove his cock into me, but fortunately, my mouth stays closed.
He doesn’t move for what feels like an eternity, but is truthfully only a few ragged breaths. There’s a terrifying, beautiful, thrilling darkness in his eyes.
He’s panting, like the effort of not taking me here on the bare floor of the cabin is too much exertion for him. “Fuck. I’m sorry, Beast.” His voice is a raspy growl that only makes my pussy wetter.
“It’s okay,” I whisper, scared to say more in case I demand that he fucks me.
He leans back, releasing my wrists to cover his face with his hands. The unignorable tension on my underwear eases. “I’m so sorry, Bailey. Are you alright?”
“I’m fine.” I reassure him. I’m better than fine, I’m burning for him right now.
But he keeps his face hidden in a way that has me worried. In an effort to console him, I reach up to stroke a hand across his cheek and dig my fingers into his beard.
“I’m so sorry.” He pulls away from my touch and leaps to his feet, pulling a blanket from the couch to hide his erection. I’m a little sad not to get a better look at it, but even more upset that he doesn’t want me touching him. “This is how Bigfoots work. We hunt to eat, and we hunt to mate. I didn’t mean to—I wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s okay. You warned me. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have?—”
“No.” He cuts me off loudly. “Do not apologize. This is my fault. I should be in better control. You shouldn’t be scared I’m going to lose it like this.”
I sit up, straightening my clothes. “You didn’t hurt me. I know you wouldn’t hurt me.” I feel the truth of the words deep in my gut as I say them. “I wasn’t scared. Well—I guess I was a little scared, but way more turned on than scared.”
His expression changes to something tormented, and his hand wipes across his face, like he’s trying to clear the emotion.
“I know you can control yourself.” I pull myself into a kneeling position in front of him. “It’s you that doesn’t trust yourself.” I run a hand up his hairy leg.
“Bailey,” his voice is pained.
“You have control, Sacha,” I say. “I can prove it to you. Sit down, I’ll show you.”
“Bailey,” he repeats, but his eyes finally meet mine, looking down from his impressive height. He holds the blanket tight in one hand as the other strokes tenderly through my hair.
“Sit,” I say again, digging my fingers into the thick hair of his leg. I push him gently toward the couch. “Sit down, and let me see what I do to you.”
23
GUYS WITH BIG FEET
Bailey
I tug at the blanket that he holds. Sacha’s grip loosens, letting me pull it to the side to reveal his erection. It stands almost painfully at attention. He sinks slowly to the couch, and I position myself between his knees.
My eyes lock on the largest cock I have ever seen.
“I guess, it’s true what they say about guys with big feet.” I breathe in admiration.
He gives a small groan and starts to pull away from me, but when I press a cheek against the inside of his leg, he settles and letting me examine him.
It’s curved up a little, and the color is a slightly darker orange than the rest of his skin. It looks like a human dick, for the most part. Except that he’s huge—larger than any I’ve ever seen before. It might be too big. It might be more than I could possibly take. My pussy clenches just thinking about it. I reach my hand out and gently trace a finger across the ballsack and up the vein on the underside of his shaft; he shudders and groans under my touch.
“What’s this?” My hand strokes across the thick knob—almost the size of my fist— at the base of his cock, both a threat and a promise.
