She woke a short time later cuddled on his lap. He was leaning against the wall, a newly placed beam supporting his back. His hands were wrapped around her and clasped together at her waist. His labored breaths fluttered through her hair during each languid exhale.
She rubbed her face against his bare skin and flattened her palm on his chest. Even asleep his muscles protruded as if flexed. She traced the contours with her fingertips then inched them upward to his neck. She’d desperately missed this. Touching him. Consuming him with her eyes. Having neglected the craving she’d acquired for him so deeply made it painful to breathe.
Carefully so as not to wake him, she shifted, giving herself the ability to see his face. His features were relaxed and lips slightly parted. She outlined them with her finger then sat up and pressed her mouth against them. His eyes opened but he didn’t move as his gaze intensified, locking on hers.
Inhaling through her nostrils, she placed her hands on his cheeks then slid them into the hair above his ears. He said nothing but he didn’t need to. His expression displayed so much emotion her heart fluttered. “Make love to me, Bronto. I need you.”
Holding him wasn’t enough. She wanted him buried deep inside where their souls fused into one. She needed it now to become a part of his existence. The pain of separation hurt too much to survive.
She reached between them, unhooked and unwrapped his loincloth, brushing the outside of her palm against his erection. She rose to her knees, raising the frock to the top of her thighs. After she straddled his lap she fisted his penis and guided the tip inside her vagina.
Despite a raspy intake of air he didn’t blink or move or try to stop her. His arousal indicated he wanted, no, needed it as much as she did. Her body was as wet as his was hard, eagerly waiting to accept him.
As she started to glide down the long shaft he inhaled sharply. She moaned while her inner walls expanded, welcoming the penetration. She nipped his lips. Lightly at first but the farther his cock sank, the more pressure she added. By the time he completely filled her, her tongue was slinking in and out of his mouth. It took unimaginable power to hold her eyes open but his gaze entranced her, lending strength.
The warm, snug sensation inside her grew incredibly intense but she refused to move. She wanted to stay like this. Forever. Until she took her last, dying breath.
He rested his hands on her hips but neither did he attempt to move. She couldn’t imagine what he must feel with her vagina conformed and contracting his rigid cock. The pulsations were immense and tingly pressure began to build in her chest. She broke the kiss to rest her forehead against his. “I can’t take much more like this,” she panted.
Supporting her neck and back, he, as if she were fragile and breakable, laid her on the fur. His cock hadn’t moved. In fact the penetration deepened while he settled on top of her, between her thighs.
Resting his arms on the outside of her shoulders, he propped himself up on his elbows and began a slow caress on the skin beneath her lower lashes with his thumbs. The pressure caused by the slight contact between their bodies hurt her tummy but she hid the symptoms.
“Ivy?”
“Yes?”
“I love you,” he professed.
Tears immediately filled her eyes. Gosh, she was such an emotional wreck lately. But they weren’t tears of fear or sorrow. They were tears of happiness. Not once had she ever wept from joy. Her life consisted of survival and turmoil. Really, nothing significant or memorable happened that she cared to remember.
She placed her palms on his cheeks. “I love you too, Bronto.”
His erection seemed to grow, stretching her farther open. She subtly gasped. Having her heart and insides overflowing with Bronto touched her in unimaginable ways. She had no idea it was possible to feel so strongly about a man. Many of the women in her clan were involved in forced relationships for breeding. The poor souls would never experience what she did now, and that was so very sad.
Ivy inhaled as Bronto lowered his lips to hers. The tenderness in the kiss warmed her belly. It was more of a compassionate pat of his mouth, like that of a mother kissing a child’s wound. The undertone was more nurturing than passionate. Hopefully he didn’t feel as if must treat her as such. He needn’t be overly gentle. She wouldn’t break.
“Move inside me,” she whispered.
Not even his kiss compared to the caring manner in which he began thrusting his penis forward and back. He hadn’t even practiced this much caution when he’d made love to her the first time. She wasn’t complaining because the long, lengthy stokes prolonged the tingly sensations building in her tummy. No words could describe the feelings slithering through her body. “Faster.”
“I don’t want to hurt you, love,” he said in between subtle nibbles to her lower lip.
“You won’t. I promise.”