Chapter 17: Mine. You're mine now.[R-18]
They lay tangled on the couch for only a few heavy breaths, sweat slicking their joined bodies. Nate didn't pull out, enjoying the heavy, soft weight of her breasts pressed against his chest and the feeling of her warm, slick cum holding them together.
But the fear was still there, the tension of the world outside still pressing in. They needed more release, more oblivion.
"Let's move," he mumbled, pushing himself up. The couch was too confining, too creaky.
He pulled her up and guided her across the rough wooden floor towards the heavy, makeshift bed in the corner. He didn't let her fully separate, keeping his cock lightly nestled between her soaking wet folds as they stumbled towards the mattress.
When they reached the bed, he gripped her shoulders and turned her, pushing her forward until she was on her hands and knees, bracing her weight against the rough, patched quilt.
"Put that ass up," he commanded, his breath ragged.
She obeyed instantly, arching her back and raising her firm buttocks towards him, presenting the dark, wet entrance of her pussy surrounded by a tangle of sweat-damp hair.
Nate positioned himself behind her. His cock, already thick and heavy again, slipped easily into the cavernous heat of her.
He drove into her from the rear, slamming his hips against her ass with a renewed fury. This position allowed him to control the angle entirely, plunging deep and hitting the precise, sensitive spot inside that made her scream.
"Harder, Nate! Don't stop!" she pleaded, her voice cracking, her massive breasts swinging heavily beneath her as she bucked her hips back against his relentless thrusts.
He gripped her hips tightly, one hand securing her pelvis, the other flattening down on the curve of her lower back, holding her steady so he could piston into her with maximum force. His strokes became a savage, rhythmic battering ram, the thick smack of flesh against flesh echoing off the cabin walls.
"This is where you belong," he grunted, the sweat dripping from his forehead onto her lower back. "Mine. You're mine now."
She was crying out, a mix of pain and pure, desperate climax. Her pussy was still incredibly tight, resisting his size with every pull-back, only to open and swallow him whole again on the return plunge.
The second climax hit him harder and faster than the first. He felt the familiar, unstoppable build. He leaned into her, wrapping one arm around her waist and pulling her back into the cradle of his hips, ensuring the depth.
"I'm coming again, deep inside you, bitch!"
He drove his final strokes into her like a drill, emptying his thick load once more, a torrent of heat flooding her core. She groaned loudly, collapsing onto the bed, her muscles spasming around him as she took her second earth-shattering orgasm, her hips pounding back against his momentarily slackening length.
Fourth Round: The Final Possession
Nate rested for a moment, still buried deep, his cock throbbing inside her warmth. He pulled his arm free, rolling them carefully onto their sides without disengaging, spooning her tight to his chest.
"Look at me," he instructed, turning her face to his, his eyes burning with a possessiveness that transcended lust—it was ownership.
Her face was flushed, her lips swollen, her massive breasts pressed firmly against his side. He reached down, adjusting their joined bodies until his cock was angled slightly upward, hitting a new, grinding spot deep within her.
He began to move again immediately, slow, deep rocks this time, a primal, exhausting rhythm designed to last until the final drops of energy were gone. This was less violent than the previous rounds, but infinitely more intimate, a continuous, deep pressure that seemed to fuse them together.
The cabin was silent now, save for their heavy, ragged breathing and the deep, squelching sound of their slow, measured movements. Nate reached across her chest and grabbed her full breast, kneading the heavy flesh roughly, his thumb rubbing mercilessly over the already abused nipple until it ached.
"Say my name," he demanded, thrusting deep.
"Nate, oh god, Nate!" she screamed, her voice a cracked plea.
She was exhausted, but her body was still responding, still gripping him. He felt the tightness returning with every stroke, the slickness renewed by their sustained passion. He pumped into her, the movements becoming short, sharp thrusts, driving toward the inevitable.
He had promised her sanctuary, and this was the price, paid in sweat, screams, and submission.
The final climax came upon them both simultaneously, a slow, agonizing climb that culminated in a roaring, dizzying sensation. Nate squeezed his eyes shut, plunging deeper than he had before, emptying the last of his seed into her, three thick, final pulses that left him gasping, his muscles trembling with exhaustion.
She screamed his name for the last time, her body convulsing wildly, her hips thrusting futilely in search of more friction. He collapsed onto her, heavy, spent, enveloped entirely by her heat, her smell, and the desperate, temporary peace of their shared violation.
The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the sound of their hearts hammering in unison. They were still joined, deep inside the wreckage of the world, two survivors clinging to the only solid reality left, the absolute, demanding weight of flesh on flesh. He had claimed her, three times over, and the threat outside the cabin door felt, for one brief, exhausted moment, incredibly distant.