Page 92 of Scarred Savages
“That’s it,” Axel praises, his hands moving back to my breasts. “Take what you need.”
I begin to move, a slow up and down motion that sends tingling pleasure through my body. The handle isn’t shaped like a cock, doesn’t curve or pulse or respond, but its unforgiving hardness creates a precise pressure. With Axel’s hands on me, his mouth now returning to my breasts, the contrast in sensations makes me fully alert, my body alive and responsive.
“Look at you,” he growls between nips and licks. “Fucking my axe like you were made for it. So wet I can hear it.”
He’s right—there’s a faint, slick sound as I move, evidence of just how aroused I am. In any other circumstance, I’d be mortified. But right now, with the stars above us and Axel’s eyes burning into me, it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.
My pace increases as my body adjusts, finding a rhythm that hits just right. Axel’s hands are everywhere—my breasts, my hips, sliding around to squeeze my ass, then back to pinch my nipples.
“That’s right,” he encourages, his voice strained with need. “Ride it. Take what you want. Use it to make that sweet pussy come.”
My head falls back as I chase the building pleasure. The wooden handle slides in and out of me, filling me in a way that’s both strange and perfect. I take it in as far as I can, bouncing on Axel’s lap.
Axel leans forward, his mouth fastening on my neck, sucking hard enough to mark. The slight pain mingles with pleasure, pushing me higher.
“You gonna come for me?” he asks, his voice rasping against my skin. “Gonna cream all over my axe? Make it smell like your pussy every time I use it?”
“Yes,” I gasp, my hips moving faster, more erratic. “Yes, yes, yes.”
“Come for me, Wildcat,” he says.
“Stop asking me to come and fucking make me,” I reply out of breath.
He chuckles, “Fuck, I think I might be in love.”
His hand slides between us again, finding my clit with unerring accuracy. He circles it in time with my movements.
The orgasm crashes over me in waves, pleasure spiraling out from my core to the tips of my fingers and toes. I cry out, my inner walls clenching around the wood, my juices dripping down the handle.
“That’s it, Wildcat. Just like that. So fucking perfect.”
When I finally come back to myself, I’m slumped against his chest, breathing hard, body trembling with aftershocks. Axel’s hands stroke my back in long, soothing motions.
“You okay?” he asks, his voice softer than I’ve ever heard.
I nod against his shoulder. Carefully, I lift myself off the handle, wincing slightly at the sensitivity. Axel helps me; his movements are gentle and considerate.
Once I’m settled in his lap, his arms wrap around me, holding me close. I can feel his arousal pressing against me, but he makes no move to seek his own release.
This was about me, I realize.
About chasing away my nightmares.
And it worked. The horrific dream that drove me outside is completely gone, replaced by the memory of pleasure.
“Thank you,” I whisper, kissing his throat.
A silent chuckle escapes him, brushing against my mouth. “Trust me, Wildcat. The pleasure was all mine.”
I pull back to look at him, expecting to see his usual smirk. Instead, his expression is open, almost tender, despite the hunger still evident in his eyes.
“Think I’ve ruined you for other weapons?” he jokes, brushing hair from my face.
“I think you’ve ruined me, period,” I reply, just the raw, unexpected truth.
“You know what they say: the couple that fucks wood together, stays good together.”
“That’s not a saying.”
