Unnatural Instinct: Blood Run

23.

They're the last words you say, in English anyway.

The rest of the day passes by like a dream. He's doing a variety of things: skinning more meat, fixing the roof, sharpening the tip of his spear against a flat stone. He bunches up the long, dead grass, preparing for more fire-lit nights.

Fire-lit nights. The stars. The moon. Just you and him in this wondrous part of the world.

You should get up and help him but you feel queer. You're not sick, just fuzzy-headed. Your brain doesn't seem to be functioning right. Sometimes, when he 'talks' with you, you don't understand him. Often, you get up to go do something, only to forget what it was a few moments later. You feel weak and your headache's returned, but at least you no longer feel pain between your legs, and you've stopped bleeding.

The hymen. You know all about it. To think that it's gone now. To think you're no longer a virgin after so long. It was painful but the next time should be different, shouldn't it? No woman who had returned to the village was taken by their kidnapper more than once. They only knew of the pain.

Licking your lips, you sit in the shelter content to watch him work.

It should be better the second time.

But still—you're nervous. As darkness falls, he lights the torches. The dancing flames reflect against his skin, making him look as though he, himself, has caught fire. When he turns to look at you, his eyes are blazing. Baring your teeth, you leave the shelter. Like before, you want to play games. He takes a step towards you. You take a step back. He emits a growl. Your own growl vibrates deep in your throat.

The once limp curl of his manhood steadily straightens into a long, thick log. Your pelvis gives a painful little throb and it concerns you. Have you fully recovered?

He pounces. You leap back. He grabs your arm. You try to yank away but he grabs your other wrist. Screaming and laughing and shouting, you thrash and twist. You try to stomp on his feet but he steps back with a playful laugh. Releasing your hands, and with a strong heave and a grunt, he hoists you with ease over his shoulder. He gives you a little shake. You laugh, recalling the last time you were together like this. His arse-crack looks inviting but you won't do it again. At least, not unless he really annoys you.

As he drops to his knees, you slither out of his arms and into the pelts. You're already panting. You're already burning. You spread open your thighs. Looking down at your groin with a wild little snarl, he drags his thumb slowly up your slit. You gasp. He growls. Grabbing your hips, he gives a hard twist, flipping you over onto your stomach. So that's the way it's going to be tonight?

You can't deny you don't feel a flash of anxiety after all that happened to you earlier in the morning, but you trust him.

You're already on all fours before he can force you up. Resting your forearms against the ground, you raise your arse into the air and open your thighs, presenting yourself to him. There's something exhilarating about not knowing what's going on back there. He could do anything to you and you wouldn't be able to stop him. The fact that you know he would never hurt you makes your longing for him that much more intense.

He presses his big hands against your cheeks and spreads you open. With a growl, he drags his finger down along your crack, stopping at your vagina where he inserts his finger. You can feel how wet you are. It's all over you, like you've sat in a puddle of water. His finger slides in and out easily. You gasp and hunch over further, pushing your backside higher into the air.

Do it! you're telling him. Enter me!

But he continues with his fondling, ignoring you. You give a snarl, then rise up on your knees to turn and glare at him. He laughs at you, then shoves you back down. You brace yourself, clawing your fingers into the pelts as he readies himself. Your heart is thudding madly. Will it hurt?

He's slow, easing himself inside. You suck in a breath. First, the outer skin of your opening peels back. It's not painful but it's not comfortable either. Next you feel the soft tissue of your channel widening to accommodate him as he pushes himself in deeper.

And deeper.

And deeper.

He feels longer than last time. He feels like he's going forever. You don't mind. You don't mind at all. There's no pain or discomfort, only pleasure. He seems to burn inside you, and you throb around him. All the little nerves in the walls of your vagina twitch and tingle at the feel of his sliding. The pleasure's so intense you shudder and emit a long, deep growl.

Then he's gripping your hips firmly as he thrusts into you, growling and grunting and whining as he does. At every thrust his pelvis hits you with a wet smack and your face shoves into the pelts.

He thrusts faster, snarls louder. At one point he smooths his hand along your back and grabs your hair, yanking back your head. Kneel, he's saying.

So you rise until your back is pressed up against his front. There, he sucks at your shoulder as he rubs his hands over your breasts, pinching and kneading and fondling. And all the while he continues to penetrate you. He's thrusting hard now, hard enough that your whole body jolts and your breasts bounce against your chest.

He lowers his hands to your groin and you gasp as he moves his finger back and forth against that nub of skin you've come to know so well. What was once pleasure quickly turns to burning torture. Sagging against him, your head lolling against his shoulder, you grab his thick forearms, encouraging him, as you gasp and pant and whine. Lost in sensation, lost in the dizzying spin of the world, you press your lips to his neck, close your eyes and let him do what he does best.

Quickly, his thrusts turn to pounding; his growling turns to snarling. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. One last, hard thrust and an explosion of colour erupts behind your eyes. A hot, wild throbbing shoots through your body. You feel it in your fingertips. You swear you can even feel it in the roots of your hair.

As for him, he grunts, groans, then shudders as he empties himself inside you. Opening your eyes, you suck at the air like a dying fish as your channel clamps down hard on his erection and tugs in time with his pulsing, pulling every little precious dribble of his seed deeper and deeper inside you.

He's gasping too. You can feel his abdomen sucking in and out against your back at every breath. You don't move for what seems a long time, enjoying each other's closeness and smells and touch. He nips at your shoulder, then nuzzles the nape of your neck. Sliding your fingers through his, you grab onto both his hands and drag his arms around your heaving, sweating body.

For a long time you hold each other.