Page 95 of Caveman (Wild Men 1)

She’s slick already, and I fingerfuck her, lightly, just pushing the tips of my fingers inside her and back out. She bends her head, a broken moan escaping her, and I push my fingers in deeper.

She takes them. Her legs spread wider, and she rocks on my fingers like she can’t help herself.

Yeah, I’m loving this. It’s fucking powerful. My dick is leaking in my pants, my balls are tight, and that’s enough of foreplay.

Quick and rough, against the bathroom sink. Maybe this will shake my brain hard enough to dislodge this need for her that’s stuck like a bullet in my head, prodding at my every thought.

I pull my fingers out, yank her panties down and stroke her pretty ass. She gasps and rocks back, into my hand. Innocent and yet dirty. Sweet and yet eager. She’s discovering sex and all the ways her body can give her pleasure, all the little triggers that turn her on, and she’s not holding back.

Because she doesn’t think it’s improper or filthy or wicked. Because she’s still pure as the driven snow, on the cusp of womanhood, with her whole life in front of her.

And I’m her downfall. Which turns me on even more, and I don’t wanna know what that says about me.

This is such a mindfuck.

“I’m gonna fuck you,” I breathe in the perfect small shell of her ear, tugging the small golden stud with my teeth.

“Yes,” she whimpers.

“You want it?”

“Yes, yes!”

With a grunt, I push my fingers inside her again, opening her up for me, fumbling with my other hand inside the bathroom cabinet. Snatching a condom, I tear it open with my teeth and put it on one-handed.

Dragging my fingers out of her wet pussy, I slick her up more, holding on to my control by a fast fraying thread. Her moans are growing desperate as she fucks herself on my fingers, her pussy swallowing them, pulsing around them, tightening.

The knowledge she’s about to come is a jolt to my balls. I pull my fingers out of her, making her yelp.

She’ll come on my fucking dick or not at all.

I replace my fingers with my cock, rubbing the head over her opening, over her clit and back until she’s whining deep in her throat, as if begging me to move.

So I push into her deep, in one mind-blowing stroke, until I’m buried balls-deep in her hot pussy.

My chest is flush with her trembling back, my hands on her hips as I keep her still, trying to pull the shattered bits of my mind back together. I can’t think, can’t speak, my heart beating in time with the pulse in my cock, the pleasure of it threatening to pull me under.

Holy fucking hell.

She whines, whimpers, struggles to move, but my grip on her hips is iron. If she moves… if she as much as wiggles those hips, I’m gone. About to fucking explode inside her.

Her hair smells of something flowery. When I lick a stripe on her neck, her skin tastes salty and sweet. Tastes like pretty girl. If they bottled the essence of a sexy woman, this would be it. Flowers, sweetness and the heady scent of her sex, musk and burnt sugar.

I wanna tell her all this. How beautiful she is. How sexy. How much I fucking want her. But I guess she can feel the evidence of that, throbbing deep inside her pussy, and it’s a moot point, since I can’t find words.

All my focus is in not coming yet, and as I recover, I pull out and slam back inside her, groaning.

Oh yeah. Jesus Christ, this is so good it’s off the fucking charts. I thrust inside her, bottoming up, hissing through my teeth at the sensation of her inner walls squeezing my dick.

I bite her neck, licking the spot, feeling like a goddamn lion marking his female as I rock my hips faster. The heat rolling down my spine, between my legs, is spreading like wildfire. My blood burns under my skin. My cock is so swollen I’m in real pain, and it’s twitching, tell-tale signs of my final and utter loss of control.

“Tay…” I groan. I’m pounding into her, hoping I’m not hurting her because, hell, I’m a train gone off the tracks. Reaching around her, I find her clit and press it, rub it. “Come with me. Come now.”

And she does with a breathy moan, her pussy tightening around my cock, clamping down until I can’t stop the orgasm from rolling through me like a fucking avalanche, shattering me. My whole body is one giant heartbeat as it tightens, clenches, bows inward—then releases as I shoot my load, a freefall into relief.

Time slows, and I’m suspended in pleasure. It rolls through me, down my back, making my dick jerk, and I don’t want it to end.

The weight that’s been crushing my chest, that’s been pressing on my shoulders, lifts for now, the sadness, the anger, the incomprehensible but soul-numbing guilt gone.

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