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I hadn’t planned on coming back so early, but some part of me—call it instinct, call it need—pulled me toward the tent. I thought I’d be ready for whatever I found. I wasn’t.
She was lying there, skirts hiked, fingers buried between her thighs, back arched, moaning my name like she was praying. My cock went hard, heart hammering, and for a second I froze.
Christ… she’s doing that… for me. For me… she’s mine already, and I ain’t even started yet.
I should’ve stopped her. Should’ve teased her, made her squirm, made her beg. But that whimper, that arch, the slick glistening over her fingers—destroyed me.
“Darlin’…” I rasped.
Her eyes flew open, guilty but glazed with need. I couldn’t stop. I wouldn’t. Not with my cock aching, straining, throbbing.
I grabbed her wrists, pinned them above her head. “You don’t touch this pussy without me, girl. Hear me?”
She whimpered, shivering. “I… I couldn’t wait… needed you…”
I growled, shoving her legs over my shoulders and folding her like she was made for me. Undid my belt just enough to get my pants down and cock out and slammed in. Tight, warm, perfect. Every inch hers, every inch mine.
“Good girl,” I groaned, teeth grazing her jaw. “Takin’ me so well… mine, all mine.”
Her scream tore through the tent. My hips snapped into hers hard and fast. I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to.
Tight… hot… perfect… she’s mine… can’t hold back… won’t hold back.
She moaned, cried, whimpered for more. I answered with another feral thrust. “Mine… mine, girl… gonna breed you senseless… so fuckin’ tight… good girl…”
Her walls fluttered, squeezing me, begging. I pulled out just enough to slam back in, letting her squeal, melt around me.
Good God… squeezin’ me like she won’t let me go… can’t… won’t… not ever.
I flipped her onto her knees, pressed her down, thrusting from behind, forehead to her back, teeth grazing her neck.
“Good girl… takin’ me so fuckin’ perfect… mine, girl… mine…”
She cried out, praising me, telling me how full she was, how perfect I felt inside her. That praise ruined me. Every thrust was an answer, every grunt a reply to her whimpers.
On top of me now, riding me hard, bouncing on my cock like she couldn’t get enough. I gripped her hips, groaning into her hair.
“Good girl… takin’ me so well… mine… mine…”
She came tight, trembling, and I followed, hips snapping into hers, spilling deep, groaning her name.
Back on her back, legs up over my shoulders, slammed in hard and fast. Deep, rough, relentless.
“Good girl… mine… mine… takin’ me so well… gonna fill you full… every bit mine…”
She begged, praised me, whispered my name. I chased her over and over, multiple climaxes, until the room was nothing but gasps, moans, wet slaps of skin.
Bent over, hips grinding into mine, thrusting from behind, lost in her cries, her body, her need.
“Good girl… mine… can’t get enough… never… ever…”
She clung to me, whispered filthy praise, called me big, perfect, hers. Every thrust, every squeeze, every moan made me go harder, faster, feral, desperate.
I flipped her back on top, letting her ride me, bouncing up and down, arms around my neck, lips against mine.
“Good girl… takin’ me so well… that’s my girl… mine…”
Round after round, I didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. She was wet, tight, trembling, crying, praising, begging. And I… I was lost in her, feral, desperate, all-consuming need.
Every time she came, I followed, filling her, marking her, whispering, “Mine… all mine… good girl… my perfect girl…”
By the final round, both of us were soaked, bodies slick, shaking, breathing hard, trembling from overstimulation. I was buried deep inside her, groaning, spent but still feral, still needing her, still desperate to fuck her until she couldn’t even think straight.
Never… never… ever… I’m never lettin’ go of her. Mine. All mine. Good girl… my perfect girl… Christ, she’s mine.
---
I’m still buried deep inside her, cock twitching, pulsing, soaked with her heat, and I can’t stop. Every gasp, every shiver from her makes me shiver too. She’s trembling under me, slick all over, hair matted, lips swollen, eyes glazed with pleasure.
“Good girl…” I rasp, hips rolling deep, letting her feel every last bit of me. “Mine… all mine… takin’ me so fuckin’ perfect… Christ, girl, you’re mine…”
She whines, fingers clutching my shoulders, back arching instinctively. “Arthur… don’t stop… please… I need you…”
I growl low in my throat, leaning close, teeth grazing her jaw. “I ain’t stoppin’, darlin’. Not for a second. You’re my good girl… mine… always mine…”
The mess between us drips down my cock, over her thighs, over my abs, and I can’t help but slide in deeper, hips snapping without mercy. Every slick sound, every tremor, every desperate cry from her… it makes me lose myself all over again.
She squeezes me tight, wringing me like she wants to feel every drop inside her. “Arthur… I’m yours… mine for you… fill me…”
Mine… always mine… can’t get enough… won’t ever…
I slam into her one more time, rough, feral, desperate. Her walls clamp around me, trembling, and she cries out, nails raking down my back. I can feel her climax roll through her, shuddering, shaking me.
“Good girl… that’s it… takin’ me so fuckin’ well… mine, all mine…” I groan, pistoning into her, marking her, claiming her.
She gasps, whispers, “Arthur… so big… so perfect… please… don’t stop…”
I can’t. I won’t. I push her down again, deep, hips snapping hard, feral, rough. Her cries fill the tent, echoing, desperate, soaked. And I swear I could fuck her like this forever, drowning in her, letting her take me just as much as I take her.
Finally, spent, I collapse atop her, forehead pressed to hers, both of us trembling, hearts hammering, sweat and slick mingled between us. I’m still hard enough to remind me I could go again in an instant, still lost in the feel of her, still wanting, still feral.
“You… good girl,” I rasp, kissing the top of her head, tracing my fingers over her soaked, trembling body. “Mine… always mine… perfect girl… mine…”
She wraps her arms around me, lips against my chest, whispering praise back. “Arthur… you’re perfect… so big… so mine… I love you…”
And I can’t help but groan, buried in her warmth and heat, knowing I’ll never let go, never stop taking her, never stop marking her as mine. She’s mine. My perfect, messy, wet, screaming, good girl. Mine forever.
---
The tent’s gone quiet, save for the ragged sound of our breathing. My chest is heavy against hers, damp with sweat, the air thick with heat and the scent of sex. I’m still buried inside her, but my hips finally still, cock twitching softly, pulsing with the last of it.
She’s limp beneath me, trembling, body wrecked and glistening. And yet when I shift to move, to pull out, her legs lock tighter around me, holding me close, as if she can’t stand the thought of me leaving her even for a moment.
My chest aches at that. God, I love her.
I nuzzle into her damp hair, kiss the top of her head. My voice is raw, low, a little shaky still.
“Shh… good girl… my perfect girl… you took me so damn well. Better’n I deserve.”
Her arms wind around me, weak but desperate, and she buries her face against my neck. I can feel her smile, small but real, even in her exhaustion.
“You’re perfect, Arthur… I’m yours… all yours.”
Christ… how can she say that about me? About a man like me?*
I roll us gently to our sides, still keeping her close, careful not to slip out just yet. One big hand cradles the back of her head, the other smoothing down her spine, shushing her like she’s the most precious thing in the world.
“You hear me?” I whisper against her ear. “You’re my good girl. My sweet, perfect girl. You make me lose my damn mind.”
She giggles softly, though it breaks into a whimper when her body clenches around me again. I kiss her temple, soothing. “Easy now… I got you. Just breathe with me. You did so good for me tonight, darlin’.”
Her fingers trace over the scars on my chest, slow and shaky. “Arthur… you make me feel beautiful.”
That about breaks me. I press my forehead to hers, eyes squeezed shut. My voice cracks with it, rougher than I mean for it to.
“You are. You’re the prettiest damn thing I ever laid eyes on. Nothin’ compares. Nothin’ ever will. You’re mine. My girl.”
I tuck her tighter against me, as if I can shield her from the whole damn world. I kiss her face—her cheeks, her jaw, her swollen lips—again and again, murmuring between each press of my mouth:
“My girl. My perfect girl. My good girl.”
Her breathing evens, her body melting against mine, legs still tangled around me, refusing to let me go. I let my hand stroke slow circles over her back, grounding her, grounding me.
By the time her eyes finally flutter closed, she’s smiling against my chest. And I just hold her there, my heart thundering with something I can’t name, whispering softly into her hair, over and over until sleep takes us both:
“Good girl. My girl. Mine.”