He released her wrists and grabbed her waist, hauling her flush against him. He closed the distance and kissed her hard.
They kissed like they were starving for it—a frantic collision of heat and need. A low, unconscious grunt vibrated in Tobey's chest as he lifted her, and Peony didn't hesitate; she locked herself to him instantly. Her arms cinched tight around his neck and her legs wrapped securely around his hips, while Tobey's arms braced under her, supporting her weight and holding her flush against his hardening body.
The kiss devolved into something wet and reckless. They explored each other with a ravenous lack of inhibition, teeth grazing lips in sharp, playful bites that drew low sounds from both of them. Peony drank from him, sucking gently on his lower lip and tasting the slickness of his mouth as if she were dying of thirst.
Tobey shifted his grip, holding her weight effortlessly with one arm so his other hand could roam free, sliding up to caress the heated curve of her back. Peony's hands were just as restless; she cupped his jaw to hold him steady, her thumbs grazing his rough cheeks before her fingers tangled into his wet hair, tracing the shell of his ear and pulling him deeper into the kiss.
His lips traveled down her jaw, lingering on the sensitive skin of her earlobe, sucking hard enough to bruise. Below, his restraint shattered. His penis freed itself from the wet waistband of his boxers—thick, heavy, and violently hard. The swollen, dark red head of his penis pressed directly against her entrance, which was already slick with river water and her own desire.
Peony gasped, her head falling back as she ground her hips down against him. The sensation of his thick penis rubbing against her sensitive, swollen flesh was electric. She could feel the heat radiating off him, the unnatural size of him promising a stretch she had never felt before.
Tobey growled, a low, animalistic sound, his teeth grazing her neck in an unconscious, possessive bite. The urge to claim her—to hike her legs higher, impale her right there in the ground, and fill her completely—was roaring in his blood like a narcotic.
But the "Uncle Tobey" inside him held the line by a thread. He could still back out. He had to be sure she wasn't just drunk; he had to be sure she wanted this specific violence.
Peony gave him her answer without words. She cupped his face and pulled him back for a searing, sloppy kiss, biting his lower lip and sucking his tongue into her mouth, drinking his saliva like a woman dying of thirst. She bucked her hips against his erection, seeking friction, desperate to ease the maddening itch building in her core. She needed to be taken. She needed him to ruin her.
She felt a surge of excitement when he started walking, thinking he was about to pin her against a tree and take her right there.
But he didn't.
Instead, Timothy gently unclasped her legs, lowering her until her feet touched the cold riverbed gravel. He tore his mouth away from hers with a wet, ragged sound.
The separation was jarring. They stood there in the moonlight, chests heaving, gasping for air. Peony looked at him with a lazy, half-lidded heat, her gaze dropping to the twitching, semi-erect penis he hadn't bothered to hide. Her eyes were dark, heavy with a hunger that bordered on worship.
Tobey stepped back, forcing a painful distance between them, ignoring the silent plea in her eyes.
I'm giving you a chance, Peony, he thought desperately, his hands shaking as he fought the beast in his blood. Walk away.
He reached for the dry white towel he had left folded on the rock. He stepped back to her and draped it over her shivering shoulders, trying to shield her nakedness from the biting night wind—and from his own voracious stare.
"Cover up," he gritted out, his voice thick with lust he was trying to choke down.
But she let the towel slip. It pooled at her feet, leaving her bare and defiant in the moonlight.
"Take me, Tim."
Her voice was a whisper, but it sounded like a thunderclap in the quiet forest.
That was it. The last thread of his sanity snapped.
He lifted her up again. Peony automatically encircled his neck and wrapped her long legs around his hips to anchor herself. Tobey didn't walk; he sprinted back toward the tent, his massive strides eating up the distance. He didn't care that they were dripping wet, or that his bare feet were stomping through the forest floor, collecting dried grass and dirt with every heavy step.
He skidded to a halt at the entrance, reaching out one hand to yank the zipper down. He expected to carry her inside to the mattress.
But Peony surprised him. She slid down his body on her own, her wet skin dragging against his as her feet hit the ground.
Tobey looked down, confused for a split second, but Peony didn't speak. She sank down and kneel in front of him. She looked up at his towering height and smiled—a dark, lust-filled curve of her lips that made his blood boil.
She hooked her fingers into the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs and tugged.
Tobey didn't wait. He helped her, shoving the wet fabric down his thighs to his ankles and kicked it to the side.
His hard penis sprang free, thick and heavy in the cool night air. Peony didn't hesitate. She quickly grabbed the throbbing shaft, her cool, wet hand contrasting with his burning heat, squeezing the impressive girth possessively.
Her gaze was fixed on Timothy's large, pale penis, revealed in the moonlight. It had been a long time since she had been this intimate with anyone, but the difference here was staggering. It wasn't just that he was a large man; every part of him was built on a different scale.
He was undeniably hung, thick and heavy with arousal. The shaft was rock hard, a roadmap of thick, prominent veins pulsing beneath the skin, and the bead of precum welling at the slit glistened, an invitation that made her own mouth water. She leaned in, her tongue darting out to capture the salty drop before her lips sealed around the swollen head, a soft hum of appreciation vibrating in her throat. His girth was such that even just the head and a few inches of his shaft stretched her mouth deliciously full.
She began to bob her head, establishing a slow, torturous rhythm, while her right hand wrapped around the base of his length, stroking in time with her movements. Her left hand cradled his heavy balls, rolling them gently, her fingertips teasing the sensitive skin behind them.
"F-fuck...ugh," Tobey groaned, his voice thick and strained. His hands flew to her head, not to force her, but to anchor himself to the overwhelming pleasure, his fingers tangling in her hair as he instinctively guided her, pushing her gently to take him even deeper.
She could feel him swelling even more against her tongue, his entire body coiling with tension as he chased the release she was so expertly building toward. The taste of him, the weight of him in her hand, the ragged sounds of his pleasure—it was a symphony of surrender. She wanted to push him over that edge, to feel him lose all control.
"Peony... wait," he choked out, his grip on her hair tightening almost painfully. He tried to pull her back, his body trembling with the effort of holding back the tide. "Not like this."
But she refused. This was her victory. She hollowed her cheeks, sucking him deeper, her tongue stroking the sensitive underside of his shaft as she took him to the back of her throat. The guttural sound that tore from his chest was her answer. With a final, shuddering groan, his hips jerked, and he spilled himself into her mouth, hot and thick and endless. She held on, swallowing every pulse, her eyes never leaving his face as he threw his head back, his body arching in a paroxysm of pure, unadulterated bliss.
For a long moment, the only sound was his harsh, panting breaths. He slowly released his grip on her hair, his hands trembling as they came to rest on her shoulders. Peony pulled back, licking her lips clean, a dark, satisfied smirk playing on her mouth as she looked up at him. He was wrecked, his chest heaving, his eyes glazed and unfocused.
He sank to his knees in front of her, bringing them face to face on the cool, damp earth. He didn't speak. He just cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs stroking her cheeks, his expression a raw mixture of awe and disbelief. Then he was kissing her again, but this time it was different. The frantic, starving need was gone, replaced by something deeper, more profound. It was a kiss of gratitude, of possession, of a man who had just been utterly undone and was now determined to put himself back together with her as his center.
"Let's continue this inside," Tobey rasped, his voice still ragged from the intense release. He helped Peony to her feet, his hands lingering on her waist as he guided her into the tent.
Peony's heart was pounding in her chest, her body still humming with unquenched desire. She could feel the heat radiating from Tobey's body, his gaze on her like a physical touch. She turned to face him, her eyes searching his in the soft light.
Tobey reached out, his fingers tracing the line of her jaw, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. "Are you sure about this, Peony?" His voice was low, steady, a stark contrast to the raw hunger in his eyes. "I don't want to hurt you."
Peony smiled, a slow, sultry curve of her lips. "You won't," she promised, her voice a husky whisper. "I can take it, Tim. I want it."
Tobey's breath hitched at the use of his name, the raw need in her voice sending a jolt of electricity through him. He leaned down, capturing her mouth in a searing kiss, his hands sliding down to grip her hips, pulling her flush against him. He could feel her body molding to his, her soft curves pressing against his hard planes, her breasts crushed against his chest.
Peony moaned into his mouth, her hands tangling in his hair, her body arching into his. She could feel his arousal, thick and heavy against her stomach, and she wanted more. She wanted to feel him, all of him, inside her.
Tobey seemed to read her mind. He broke the kiss, his hands sliding down to her thighs, lifting her up. Peony wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, as he carried her to the mattress. He laid her down gently, his body following, his hips settling between her thighs.
Tobey's eyes roamed over Peony's body, taking in the sight of her in her wet, clinging two-piece swimsuit. He reached out, his fingers tracing the strap of her top, his knuckles brushing against her skin. Peony shivered, her body still sensitive from their earlier encounter.
"Let's get you out of these wet clothes," Tobey murmured, his voice low and husky. He reached behind her, his fingers finding the clasp of her top, unhooking it with ease. He slid the straps down her arms, his hands lingering on her skin, his thumbs brushing against her nipples, making them harden.
Peony gasped, her body arching into his touch, her eyes never leaving his. Tobey smiled, a slow, predatory smile, as he tossed her top aside, his eyes feasting on her bare breasts. He leaned down, his mouth finding one nipple, then the other, his tongue teasing them, his teeth grazing them until Peony was writhing beneath him, her hands tugging at his hair.
Tobey chuckled, a low, satisfied sound, as he kissed his way down her stomach, his hands sliding down her thighs, pushing them apart. He reached the edge of her bottoms, his fingers tracing the line of the fabric, his thumbs hooking into the sides.
"Lift your hips, Peony," he commanded, his voice low and firm. Peony obeyed, her hips lifting, her body arching as Tobey slid her bottoms down, revealing her to him. He tossed the fabric aside, his eyes feasting on her naked body.
Tobey leaned down, his mouth finding her center, his tongue tasting her, his fingers sliding inside her. Peony moaned, her body writhing, her hips grinding against his mouth. Tobey brought her to the brink of orgasm, then pulled back, his body moving up hers, his length pressing against her entrance.
Peony gasped, her body tensing, her eyes meeting Tobey's. "Please..." she whispered, her voice filled with need.
Tobey smiled, a slow, teasing smile, as he rubbed his length against her, his hips moving in a slow, steady rhythm. He was torturing her, teasing her, his thickness sliding against her clit, his length pressing against her entrance, but not entering her.
"Tim... please..." Peony begged, her body arching, her hands gripping his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin.
Tobey groaned, his body shuddering at the feel of her nails, his control slipping. He reached between them, his fingers guiding his length to her entrance. He paused, his eyes meeting hers, giving her one last chance to change her mind.
But Peony didn't hesitate. She reached up, her hands gripping his hips, her eyes filled with desire. "Now, Tim," she commanded, her voice filled with need.
Tobey groaned, his hips snapping forward, his length sliding inside her, filling her completely. Peony gasped, her body stretching to accommodate him, her fingers digging into his hips. Tobey paused, giving her time to adjust, his body trembling with the effort of holding back.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice strained, his eyes searching hers.
Peony nodded, her eyes meeting his. "More than okay," she whispered, her hips lifting, her body urging him on. "Move, Tim. Fuck me."
Tobey groaned, his hips pulling back, then snapping forward, his length sliding in and out of her, setting a slow, steady rhythm. Peony moaned, her body meeting his thrust for thrust, her hands sliding down to his hips, her fingers digging into his ass, urging him on.
The sound of their bodies meeting, the wet, slick sounds of their desire, filled the tent, mingling with their moans and gasps. Tobey's thrusts grew harder, faster, his body slamming into hers, his length filling her completely, his fingers finding her clit, rubbing it in time with his thrusts.
Peony could feel the pressure building inside her again, her body tensing, her breath coming in short gasps. "Tim... I'm... I'm going to... oh god..." she gasped, her body arching, her fingers digging into his hips.
Tobey growled, his body slamming into hers one last time, his length pulsing inside her, his release filling her. The feel of him, the heat of him, sent Peony over the edge. Her body convulsed, her orgasm ripping through her, her moans mingling with Tobey's groans, their bodies shuddering together.
For a long moment, they lay there, their bodies entwined, their chests heaving, their skin slick with sweat. Tobey rolled to the side, his arms wrapping around Peony, pulling her close, his lips finding hers in a soft, tender kiss.
"That was... incredible," he whispered, his voice filled with awe.
Peony smiled, her eyes meeting his, her body still humming with pleasure. "It was," she agreed, her fingers tracing the lines of his chest, her body already yearning for more. "But it's not over yet, Tim. Not by a long shot."
They continue their sensual lovemaking without realizing how quickly time passes... and without realizing Peony no longer has a chance to save herself from being drowned in Timothy's arms.