You Don’t Have to be Gentle
His grip is hard. His fingers dig into my arm, but he’s careful, and when I look up at his face, I see the frustration.
The hunger. The way his jaw is clenched so tight it looks like he might crack it.
He’s not angry, not really. He looks desperate.
He throws me over his shoulder, ignoring my surprised yelp as he carries me toward the trees, the snow crunching under his boots.
Cold air bites at my skin, but his body is hot against mine, his hands gripping me like he needs me. He lowers me off his shoulder, pressing me against the rough trunk of a tree.
“Jake, wh–what are you doing?” My body shivers, my muscles tensing when he falls to his
knees and drags my leggings down to my ankles and off of me.
It’s so fucking cold, but the heated look in his eyes is enough to warm me.
He stands, leaning over me. “You think you can tease me?”
I shake my head, trying to still the tremble in my body.
“You think I can listen to your wet pussy, watch someone else touch you without wanting you myself?” The sound of his zipper fills the air.
The cold is nonexistent by this time, everything inside me burning up.
“Do you enjoy torturing me?” His voice is low, raspy, his breath hot against my lips.
I don’t get the chance to answer before he lifts my leg around his waist and thrusts into
Hard.
I scream.
His hand cup my face, fingers threading into my hair as his mouth crashes against mine. It’s messy, desperate, all tongue and teeth as he relentlessly thrusts into me.
1/4
You Don’t Have to be Gentle
It’s not pleasure, it all barely restrained hunger.
He fucks me like he’s trying to brand himself into me, like he wants to erase every other touch, every other thought, until there’s only him.
The bark digs into my back, but I don’t care.
I want this.
I need this.
His lips move to my jaw, then my throat, sucking and biting, and I gasp as my fingers clutch his jacket, holding on for dear life. My cries are broken, my breath a panting mess.
The coiled want in me builds until I’m rocking my hips against him, taking from him as
much as he takes from me.
The tension, the grief, the weight of the past few days, of the reminders of that day two years ago, it all disappears under his touch.
His teeth graze the skin of my neck as he grunts, stilling and spilling his hot seed inside
He pulls back, moaning as he pulls himself out of me. I throw my head back at the feeling of emptiness. His hands leave me, a shivering cold covering me.
But then Aiden is there, his hands sliding around my face as he tilts my chin up. His eyes
search mine, softer, careful.
I
groan, his hands kneading my ass as he lifts both of my legs to his waist.
He takes his time, watching the features on my face as he slowly thrusts into me.
“It’s okay,” I grunt. “You don’t have to be gentle. You can fuck me.”
It’s messy, still full of need, but he’s softer than Jake. He doesn’t take; he gives. His lips move with slow, savoring intent, like he wants to memorize the feel of me.
I melt into him, my fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie, letting him guide me as he deepens the kiss. His thrusts at fast and yet deliberate.
He makes sure that I feel his balls on my ass, that I feel the shove of his hips all the way to my clit. He moves me himself, gripping my ass to lift me and drop me in synch with his
“Fuck, baby,” he groans, his body tensing.
I cross my ankles at his back, bringing us impossibly closer. It gives him no chance, and
By the time we reach the road, my head is spinning. My pussy is full. My lips are swollen.
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