FREE USE in Primitive World

Chapter 315: Face Off



Chapter 315: Face Off

The sound in the room was as primal as it could get. The wet, heavy slapping of skin on stone, the ragged gasps for air, and the low, guttural barks of two people finally finding their match. Kira was a beautiful mess wjile Sol was relentless, his thrusts becoming longer and more desperate.

He was hitting her G-spot with every plunge, the friction creating a heat that felt like it would set them on fire.

"Sol! I’m... I’m going to..."

"Not yet," he commanded, his hands gripping her knees to hold her open.

He flipped her over on the stone table, her chest pressed against the cold surface, her cute perky ass hiked high into the air. He knelt behind her, his hands gripping her waist with a bruising force, and drove back his cock from behind.

And as alwayas, this felt like the deepest he had ever been. He felt the head of his cock battering against the gateway of her womb, a dull, heavy ache that resonated through her entire skeleton.

He reached forward, grabbing her hair to pull her head back, forcing her to look at the shadows of the room as he ravaged her. He was a vessel of relentless fire, and as the night deepened, his hunger only grew. He wasn’t just making up for lost time, he was building a fortress of meat and heat against the coming darkness.

The friction was building, the heat was rising, and the true indulgence of the night was spiraling into a territory where names and tribes didn’t exist. Sol was far from finished.

He had days of survival to burn out of his system, and as he began the final, savage sprint of the hour, he knew that by the time the dawn touched the Spire, Kira wouldn’t just be his partner.... she would be the only thing left of him.

"Stay with me, Kira," he growled into her ear, seeing her closing eyes, his hips moving in a blur of raw power. "Don’t you dare close your eyes."

"I’m here," she sobbed, her body clenching around him in a frantic, rhythmic dance. "I’m right here. Don’t... don’t ever... stop..."

He obliged and picked her up from behind, his hands on her chest and stomach and get back on the bed.

Sol sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, his feet planted firmly on the floorboards. He kept Kira impaled on him, and turned her around, her body facing his, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist.

This was the "Face Off"... a position of absolute, unshielded intimacy. Because she was sitting in his lap, her weight was driving him to the very root of her being, her pussy gaping and stretching to hold the sheer volume of him.

"You’re really beautiful, Warchief’s daughter," Sol grunted, his hands splaying across her buttocks, his fingers sinking into the firm, athletic muscle.

Kira didn’t offer a shy smile. She leaned forward, her sweat-slicked breasts crushing against his chest. She gripped his shoulders, her nails carving fresh white lines into his skin. "Then carry me, outsider," she challenged, her voice a feral thread of silk. "You claimed you were a furnace. Prove it. I can still feel the cold of the Orrath on my back. Burn it out of me."

Sol let out a dark, guttural laugh. He didn’t start with a thrust, instead He started with a grind. He used his hands on her ass to tilt her hips, forcing her to rotate in slow, heavy circles on his cock erected to the heavens.

And honestly, the friction was incredible... the thick, creamy pool of their combined fluids acted as a heavy lubricant, making every movement sound like a wet, rhythmic squelch in the quiet room.

He then guided her hips down, the broad head of his cock sliding back into her heat with a heavy, wet thud. Kira let out a long, ragged sound of ecstasy, her head falling back as she was impaled once more. This was face-to-face, skin-to-skin. He could see every bead of sweat on her brow, every flicker of emotion in her eyes.

"You’re a bottomless pit, Kira," Sol whispered, his hands sliding up to cup her face. "You’re taking all of it and asking for more. You’re as greedy as I am."

He began to thrust upward as she bounced downward, their bodies colliding in a slow, heavy grind. He used his hands to guide her hips, ensuring that every rotation of her body maximized the friction. He felt the head of his cock rubbing against her cervix, a dull, heavy ache that made her eyes flutter.

But of course, Kira wasn’t gonna be outdone, her head snapped back, her throat a long, straining cord of ivory. She wasn’t just taking it, she was riding him. She used her powerful thighs to lift herself an inch before dropping back down with a heavy, wet thud, her internal muscles clenching on him like a pulsing trap.

"Aaaghhhh... Sol..." she wheezed, her eyes rolling into her skull. "You’re... you’re reaching too far. I can feel you... in my very center."

...

Seeing this, Sol leaned forward, his mouth finding her right breast. And began to gently nibble her tense nipples, sometimes gently, while other with enough force to elect a sweet moan from her mouth. And he would then proceed to give her a deep, passionate kiss.

After nibbling enough, he captured the nipple and sucked deep, his tongue swirling around the tip with a relentless, rhythmic pressure. He wanted to taste the salt and the fire of her. As he sucked hard, pulling them with his teeths, Kira let out a sharp, animalistic shriek, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, then pushing him away in a chaotic dance of sensory overload.

He switched to the other side, his mouth a hot brand on her skin. He bit the underside of the swell, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh, marking her again and again. He was drinking her in, consuming the elite warrior until there was nothing left but the woman who had dared to lie for him.


Tip: You can use left, right, A and D keyboard keys to browse between chapters.